


Shereshoy

by AkiRah



Series: Beyond Destiny [5]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Beyond Destiny, Bounty Hunter storyline, Close Canon, Evolving Tags, F/M, Found Family, Hrafnhar (OC) - Freeform, Mandalorian values, creative swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2019-09-01 21:02:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 130,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16772878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkiRah/pseuds/AkiRah
Summary: Shereshoy, a mandalorian word meaning "lust for life." The adventures and exploits of Hrafnhar, bounty hunter.





	1. Entry Fee

**Author's Note:**

> << >> indicates non-basic speech

Hutta smelled like shit. 

Hrafnhar wrinkled her nose as she stepped off the transport shuttle and her boots squelched in what she was going to generously assume was mud. It wasn’t her _first_ trip to the unpleasant little planet, but she generally tried to operate in more civilized regions of space. Regions of space with real roads. 

Still, this was where Braden had said he wanted to meet up and his last little letter had sounded _excited_. Hrafnhar wasn’t sure what would have excited him, but she was pretty sure it involved credits, and credits were her favorite thing in the galaxy. 

Braden was a work acquaintance, and as that was about as close as Hrafnhar came to having friends since she left the Ascendancy some three years prior, she elected not to dick around before going to find him. Besides, there wasn’t anything to dick around _doing_ in Jiguuna. It had a third rate cantina run by a second rate Hutt. 

She seriously hoped this was worth her goddamn time. If he had her out here on a minor bounty as some form of a joke or bonding exercise, she was going to shoot him in the dick. And then in the face. 

She made her way to the smaller of the two cantinas in Jiguuna (“The Poison Pit,” a fourth rate cantina run by the same second rate Hutt) and into the room the letter had indicated, just in time to catch the tail end of a conversation and a young female voice say “hey now…” 

“Hey, indeed.” Braden looked over at the door and grinned. Hrafnhar’s attention slid off the scrawny human female and landed on the old hunter. “The main attraction is here. Team,” he looked to the human female and the male Nikto sitting with his feet up. “This is the girl we’re pinning all our hopes on.” 

Hrafnhar raised an eyebrow. 

_Hopes_ , huh. She’d never been good with hopes. She prefered things of a more tangible variety. Like blasters or money. Or money with which to buy more ammo. 

“Best shot I’ve ever seen and nerves of steel.” Braden continued with a small nod. “She’s Great Hunt material, all right.” 

Hrafnhar’s other eyebrow rocketed up to join the first. _Great Hunt_. His letter hadn’t mentioned the fucking hunt. His letter hadn’t mentioned shit for dick. She forced her expression to one of vague nonchalance, already annoyed with the smirk on Braden’s mouth. He hadn’t told her on purpose because he wanted her surprised in front of his team. 

Asshole. 

“What do you say, Hrafnhar? Ready to meet your team?” 

Hrafnhar nodded, still a little stunned but unwilling to give him the benefit of seeing her further off balance. “Fuck yes.” 

“Good. To win the Great Hunt you’ll need support, structure and intel.” Braden’s smile softened a little bit. “Let’s do things official-like. This is Mako,” he walked over the human woman and set his hand on her shoulder, looking as proud as if he’d pushed her out himself. “A little genius I picked up years ago on Nar Shaddaa. She provides intel and tech.” 

“Both handy things,” Hrafnhar gave her a little nod. 

“Hope you’re as good as the old man says.” Mako commented evenly. 

“Knowing Braden?” Hrafnhar rested one hand lazily on her hip. “Even better.” 

Braden laughed. “The big bruiser is Jory,” he gestured to the Nikto. Jory waved. “He handles the heavy lifting and provides security for our base of operations.” 

<< Greetings. I am at your disposal. Feel free to make us all incredibly wealthy and famous. >>

Hrafnhar huffed a laugh and nodded. “I intend to.” 

She was sliding quickly into the idea. Winning the Great Hunt theoretically meant she could retire in luxury, not that she had designs on retiring. It _would_ let her be choosier about what jobs she took. 

And Hrafnhar could just _picture_ the look on the Aristocra’s face when she heard the news. 

It would be the perfect revenge. 

“Little Mako is the most rabid fan of hunter history this side of Geonosis—” Braden gave Mako another small adoring look. “And even she doesn’t know exactly what the Great Hunt entails.” 

“Beyond a fuckload of Mandalorians waving their cocks around? I don’t think anyone does.” 

“I _do_ know the names of every Great Hunt winner though.” Mako seemed determine to prove that she was useful. Hrafnhar tuned her out as she started to list them and Braden raised a hand after the first couple of names. 

“Every bounty hunter who’s won a Great Hunt went on to massive glory and riches, which is why we’re here.” 

“I’ll take the riches, you keep the glory and we call it a fifty-fifty split?” Hrafnhar teased, a smirk painted on her pretty red mouth. 

<< You see, >> laughed Jory, << this woman understands the way the galaxy works. >>

“Here’s what I know so far.” Mako piped up from the corner near the wall console. “The Great Hunt has two groups: the Mandalorian elite and the freelance bounty hunters sponsored by influential crime lords. There’s no time to make you a Mandalorian—”

“And who wants to be one.” Hrafnhar stuck her tongue out. 

“—That means you need a sponsor.” 

Braden nodded and took the reigns once more. “Nem’ro the Hutt runs this stinking little town. I’ve got just enough pull with that gangster to get you an introduction. We need to get you situated as a big-time hunter, at least as the locals know. Then we contact Nem’ro.” His smile shifted to just a little sneaky. “I’ve got Mako looking for the nastiest, most untouchable motherfucker here on Hutta. She’ll plant rumors about your offworld exploits, but you have to take down someone impressive—and local—to sell that reputation.”

“Found something,” Mako interrupted. “Check this out… Vexx: Corellian, champion quick-draw artist, wanted for robbing fifteen Imperial military pay stations.” 

<< Of all places to get credits, why would a sane being rob an Imperial pay station? >>

“Because he’s stupid.” Hrafnhar shrugged at Jory. 

“Perfect,” Braden said. “This Vexx is either a madman or a glory hound, and he’s obviously dangerous.”

“Says here Vexx has a safe house in the bad part of town, right in the heart of the madness.” Mako clicked her tongue and offered an almost apologetic smile. “That’ll be _fun_.” 

Hrafnhar looked at Braden for clarification. He sighed. “Nem’ro the Hutt’s enemy took over part of this town. It’s dangerous poking around in there, but it’s your best shot. Raid Vexx’s safe house and look for something that might help us track him down, but be ready for anything.” 

“I always am.” Hrafnhar grinned. 

“Be safe out there.” 

She would have rolled her eyes at Braden, but Chiss didn’t actually have pupils so she satisfied the urge with a small snort instead. 

The Poison Pit was in the _better_ part of Nem’ro’s little piece of Hutta and that spoke poorly of everywhere else. Hrafnhar trudged through the mud and grime and blaster fire until she reached the little shithole apartment Vexx was using as a bolt hole. 

Wouldn’t it have been _convenient_ if he was home, she thought, shooting and killing three human males and then checking their faces against the picture of Vexx Mako had uploaded to her datapad in the interim. 

Alas, no matches. 

But she found a datapad and tucked it into a pocket before trudging back through the gangwar to show it to Braden and see if Mako could get anything useful off of it. 

Maybe there were upsides to this whole “team” thing. Hrafnhar knew _how_ to crack a datapad—leftover Ascendancy training— but she wasn’t _good_ at it and she was happier handing it off to someone else. 

Braden was absent but Mako was bemoaning her role as techy. “I’m just saying I wanna go on some missions,” she complained to Jory. “My blaster aim is pretty good.” She sighed. “Anything’s better than sitting around with you and our gear. No offense, big guy.” 

Jory laughed. << None taken, little one. You are young and still crave adventure. >> He gestured with his head to the door as Hrafnhar entered. 

Mako gave her a bright smile. “Hey, look who’s back! How’d it go out there, girl? Find anything?” 

“A datapad with your name all over it.,” Hrafnhar tossed it over, hiding a smirk as Mako moved to catch it. 

<< You show much natural skill. I’m honored to join you on the Great Hunt. >>

“Having a base of operations is weird,” Hrafnhar admitted. “At least someone’s keeping a fucking eye on it.” She cocked an eyebrow. “What do you two do while I’m gone anyway?”

The door opened and Hrafnhar turned and greeted Braden with a toss of her chin. 

“Same as me,” he answered for Jory and Mako, “taking care of all the boring details so you don’t have to.”

“Hey, Braden!” Mako beamed. “How was Nem’ro’s palace? Are we getting our hunter in to see this Hutt?” 

“I’ve laid the groundwork, but we’re not there yet. What’ve you got?” 

“Datapad from Vexx’s safehouse.” Mako held it up. “Cracked the encryption in record time!” It was cute how she wanted him to be proud of her. “Check out the last entry.” 

Braden took the datapad and Hrafnhar crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot waiting to be filled in. This was the part of having help she _didn’t_ like. The waiting. 

“Our boy Vexx keeps detailed records,” Braden said as he scrolled. “There’s a receipt here for a shuttle ticket he bought today. We’ll have to move fast.” He looked at Hrafnhar. “Only the boldest make it to the—”

“I get it,” she huffed goodnaturedly. “You can give me an inspiring speech when I get back. When’s his shuttle leaving and what hangar is he using?”

Braden smiled and sent the information to her datapad. Hrafnhar grinned. 

It was time to go to work. 

* * *

There were two reasons Hrafnhar had gotten into Bounty Hunting and not some other sort of business. With Vexx convulsing on the ground, Hrafnhar thought about them. The first had obviously been credits. But the second was the thrill of the chase and the high she got when a target hit the ground. 

There was nothing quite like it. 

Knowing that there was nowhere to hide from her. That nothing and no one was out of reach. She was in control of her destiny and no matter what fate threw at her she had the skill and the talent to get where she wanted to be. 

It was poetic and a lot of the time she didn’t care for poetry. 

She shot Vexx in the head as he twitched and stooped to snag his ident tags before rummaging through his pockets for valuables. Satisfied she prodded the body with her foot and turned to head back the way she’d come, trusting that the sound of gunfire was so common as to be unnoticable in this fucking place. 

She headed back to Braden at The Poison Pit whistling idly as she passed the brawl that had inevitably broken out in the sitting area. 

She found corpses. Braden and Jory lying on the floor of their room, the room trashed around them and the blood already cold. The lack of Mako was initially surprising and quickly resolved when Hrafnhar heard a scream from the door. “What happened?” she demanded. “Is the old man…?” She looked at Braden and then looked away like she was going to be sick. 

Hrafnhar nodded, not entirely sure what to do with a young woman on the brink of tears. 

“No!” Mako darted to Braden’s side and started to feel for a pulse or warmth, some sign that it wasn’t as bad as it was. “But… he… _damn it_.” She withdrew her hands and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold it together while Hrafnhar stood awkwardly between the two corpses and tried to figure out what had happened. 

“Wait,” Mako said darkly. “ _You_ had something to do with this!” 

Hrafnhar raised a challenging eyebrow and pulled Vexx’s ident tags out of a pocket for her alibi. “Right, because shooting yourself in the dick is fun. It’s been a minute but I’m not eager enough to get fucked that I’d do it to myself.” 

“I’m sorry.” What little fire there had been in Mako’s eyes died away, leaving them hollow. “I don’t know what came over me. It’s just… I’ve been with Braden for years. I—I know you didn’t have any reason to hurt him. I just… I can’t believe he’s gone.” 

“No offense taken.” Hrafnhar tucked the ident tags into a pocket. “But if we’re going to find the assholes responsible I need you sharp.” She snorted and looked at Braden’s corpse. 

They hadn’t been _friends_ but they’d been… close. They’d been _friendly_. 

“Any chance you had the room under surveillance?” she looked at Mako and snapped once to draw the woman’s attention up off of Braden. “Mako.” 

She nodded. “Fire up that monitor,” she pointed. “Let’s figure out who did this.” 

Hrafnhar flipped the holoscreen in question on and frowned as nothing happened. She looked expectantly at Mako who hit the device and growled, “Fuck. Someone’s tampered with the recording. I can still get some of it though.” She fiddled with something. “Here we go.” 

Hrafnhar watched as the holographic figures of Braden and Jory were joined by two human males, the one without the stupid haircut on the taller side of average and his companion sporting heaving cybernetics. 

“Move and you’re dead,” Holo-Braden said. “Now, if you know what’s good for you, you’re gonna back out nice and slow.” 

“Oh,” laughed the taller human male. “I know _precisely_ what’s good for me. Winning the Great Hunt won’t merely be _good_ , it will be splendid.” He preened and Hrafnhar figured that she probably hated him on impulse. “When I win, the entire galaxy will know the name Tarro Blood, and I’ll charge extravagant fees for my services. Won’t I, Sedyn?” 

“The highest in the galaxy,” replied the croney. “Only the filthy rich will be able to afford you.”

“Tarro Blood?” Braden looked a little concerned. “I’ve heard of you. Nearly got crippled by the other Mandalorians at the Great Hunt ten years back.” 

“Ah yes. That.” Blood smiled, not a good or kind smile. “An unfortunate bit of history. This time, I plan to win.” His smile widened. “Of _course_ , that will be simpler if my competition doesn’t include rivals beyond my fellow Mandalorians.”

“He’s really just stroking his own dick there, isn’t he?” Hrafnhar muttered.

Mako elbowed her in the ribs. 

“Gone,” Tarro Blood finished his list of removed competitors that Hrafnhar had talked through. “That just leaves your protege to remove.” 

<< Then your mission is a failure. >> Jory drew himself to his full height. << Your quarry is not here, and now revealed, your hunt has failed. >>

“You misunderstand,” chuckled Blood. “The rules _forbid_ killing competitors before the allotted hour. Thus, the promising up-and-comers I mentioned are very much alive. I simply eliminated them as threats. And how does one slow a charging gundark, Sedyn?” 

Sedyn, the one with the stupid haircut, got a wide knowing smile. “Blast his legs out from under him.” 

Blood nodded. “Destroy the upstart’s so-called crew. I’ll be outside,” he scoffed, “ _innocently_ unaware.” 

“Jory!” Braden shouted. “Shoot to kill!” 

“Too late, old man,” Sedyn hissed and fired. 

The result was lying in pools of their own cooling blood on the cantina rug. Mako turned away, unable to watch and Hrafnhar sighed and turned the monitor off. 

“That _scum_!” Mako blinked away her tears, swiping angrily at her face with her wrist. “He didn’t even have the guts to kill them himself. He had his _lackey_ do it, the coward.” She took a couple of deep breaths to try and calm herself. “The big-mouth running the show—” 

“The one who can orgasm just by listening to his own voice?” 

Mako smiled a little. “He claimed he was Tarro Blood. He’s a big shot even for a Mandalorian.” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. _She’d_ never heard of him before. 

“When he started out, Tarro Blood was major news,” Mako explained. “Rumor says everyone united against him when he tried the Great Hunt.” 

“So now he cheats. Sounds like a real winner.” Hrafnhar frowned and looked at Braden. She was in the revenge business, but it was usually _other people’s_ revenge. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling for Braden at that moment. Pity maybe? 

She looked at Mako and found the same sort of feeling. Pity maybe.

“If what he said was true, he’s already nixed some competitors.” Mako took another breath. “Tarro Blood barely survived elimination from the Great Hunt last time. He was out on his back for years. Major squash, you know?” She frowned. “If Blood’s determined to win the Great Hunt, our best bet of catching up to his is getting you into that competition.” 

“Certainly seems that way.” 

“Thing is,” Mako huffed. “Braden spent all our credits _getting us here_. We’re _stuck_ on this stupid planet.” 

The feeling in Hrafnhar’s stomach grew a little bit. 

“Nem’ro the Hutt is the only boss with enough clout to sponsor you for the Great Hunt. We need him more than ever.” 

There was a lot of _we_ in Mako’s sentences. Hrafnhar considered pointing it out, but if she was doing this, going for the Great Hunt, she was going to need a team. At least someone watching her back. 

Which was new and exciting. 

And not the fun orgasm kind of exciting. 

“If nobody knows Braden is…” Mako swallowed. “Is dead, I should be able to get you a meeting with Nem’ro. This will take every favor I can call in. And I’ll need the tags from your bounty—should be enough for… for two burials.” 

Hrafnhar handed the tags over without any fuss. She actually owed Braden that much. Not friends, but friendly. 

“I’ll do something nice for them, at least as nice as I can manage on this cesspool of a planet.” Mako wiped the last trace of a tear off her cheek. “I did everything I could to build your reputation, but now you’ll have to make an even bigger impression. Nem’ro’s enemies are all over town. Take out some leaders before you visit the palace, and you’ll score points with the Hutt.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. She studied Mako for a long moment before the sliver of her better nature got the best of her. “You alright handling this on your own?” 

“I’m fine,” Mako muttered. “I’ll be better once we plant Tarro Blood in the ground.” 

* * *

Hrafnhar strolled up the steps to Nem’ro’s palace with her pockets full of ident tags. It was a regular shooting gallery between The Poison Pit and Nem’ro’s palace if you took the scenic route and Hrafnhar didn’t even bother to walk all that fast. 

Her name, and the pockets full of tags, got her into see Nem’ro who was, surprise surprise, a giant hedonistic slug. 

Hrafnhar had never really like Hutts. Mostly because they were better at what she wanted to do and they hadn’t had to _earn it_. Some part of her upbringing hissed that they lacked any sense of _discipline_ , but one of the reasons she drank was to silence that little voice, so it didn’t weigh in too heavily in her day to day. 

She entered the room and let her posture slide towards nonchalance. If she held herself like she was the baddest bitch in the room other people would get the message. If they didn’t the blasters were there to back her up. Her eyes slid over the barely clothed slave girls and then back up to the Hutt.

She grinned at him as she was called forward. 

“Look, boss—little woman come to beg for mighty Nem’ro’s attention,” announced some sycophant houk as she drew nearer to Nem’ro’s lounge. 

<< Be polite, Carnus. >> Nem’ro dismissed him with a wave of his wrist. << This bounty hunter has been sweeping the filth from my town’s lovely streets. >> He turned his attention down to Hrafnhar. << Excuse him, he lacks manners. You stand in the court of Nem’ro. All you see in Jiguuna is under my authority. >>

“It’s an honor to finally meet you face-to-face,” Hrafnhar said, because one either learned how to talk to Hutts in this business or one ended up face down in a ditch. 

And not the fun way. 

<< Of course it is. >>

Hrafnhar was grateful, for once, that Chiss couldn’t really roll their eyes. 

<< Lovely little Mako called to explain your situation, so let’s cut right to the chase. You want sponsorship into the Great Hunt. I can provide that. >> He smiled. << But why _should_ I? Mako says you are a famous bounty hunter, that hardened men run and hide just hearing your name. But Mako says a lot of things. >>

“I’ve never known her to be dishonest.” Never mind that she’d known Mako for most of an afternoon. 

Nem’ro chuckled a little. << You want to prove that you are this fearsome manhunter? I will give you that chance. I have targets here on wonderful Hutta that need eliminating. No problem for one with your reported skills. >>

Hrafnhar nodded unsurprised. 

<< The first head you will bring me is that of an Evocii—one of those useless, sniveling natives. >> Nem’ro sneered. << You don’t have a soft spot for primitive tribesmen, do you? >>

“I have a soft spot for _credits_ ,” Hrafnhar said flatly. 

<< A true mercenary. You’ll do well with Nem’ro. >> He swept out with one arm. << The Evocii sold us this world for trinkets. Now they take up arms against their rightful masters. It’s disgusting. >>

_The heart bleeds for you,_ Hrafnhar thought sarcastically. 

<< One Evocii dares call himself Huttsbane. He raids my holdings and hides in a swamp village. Place his head on my floor. >>

“That all?” 

<< Kill Huttsbane’s followers too, but leave their heads in the village. Go now. >> Nem’ro gestured to the door. 

Hrafnhar bowed her head politely before turning and exiting the wide room to return to the larger Cantina and Jiguuna beyond. 

* * *

“Hey girl, it’s Mako,” Mako said as her hologram flickered to life in Hrafnhar’s palm. Hrafnhar herself was standing in the middle of a pile of dead Evocii, Evocii who had been willing to throw their lives away for their champion. 

And she didn’t necessarily disagree with them. The Hutts were evil and exploitive. 

But she did the job she was paid for. 

“You alright?” she asked Mako. 

“Better, now that I’ve got a lead.” Mako gave her a weak smile. “The man who killed Braden _really was_ Tarro Blood, a big shot from Alderaan. After he washed out of the last Great Hunt, Tarro spent years building up support with the Mandalorians. The Great Hunt is a Mandalorian tradition. Entry rules are _different_ for their people. Since Tarro’s a Mandalorian, he competes with them to enter.” 

“Son of a bitch.” 

“Now he’s buying off the other Mandalorians so they don’t gang up on him again.” 

“So on top of all of his other personality quirks he’s a little bitch, good to know.” 

Mako’s mouth moved to a warmer smile. “For now, concentrate on impressing Nem’ro. His sponsorship is your only chance of getting close to Tarro Blood.” 

“Luckily I’m super fucking impressive.” Hrafnhar looked at the corpses surrounding her.

“One more thing,” Mako rubbed the back of her neck. “While I was out taking care of… saying _goodbye_ to Braden and Jory… I caught someone following me. He was dressed like some offworld tribesman. Tall. Wore a white bone mask like a death’s head.” 

“He do anything or just spook you?” 

“No, but he could tell I spotted him. Anyway,” she rolled her shoulders back. “Eyes open. Go show that Hutt who’s the best bounty hunter in the galaxy.” 

Hrafnhar tucked her comm away and knelt to sever Huttsbane’s head from his body, blood spattering her up to the elbows. She tucked the head into a bag and headed back for the palace. 

Nem’ro paid for a head on his floor. 

Nem’ro got a head on his floor. 

She strolled into Nem’ro’s court, bag leaking a little bit, and set the head down in front of Nem’ro’s lounge. 

“Anything else?” 

<< Then it’s true. You killed the famed Huttsbane. Tell me of your hunt. >>

“I found him. He hollered for friends. I shot a bunch of people. It wasn’t that exciting,” Hrafnhar said flatly. 

<< So simple, was it? One time might be luck… >> Nem’ro let the sentence dangle while he sloshed wine around in a large goblet, watching Hrafnhar closely. << Your next target will not be so easy to reach, though he shouldn’t put up much of a fight when you find him. How much do you know of what is happening here on Hutta? >>

“Someone’s muscling in on your turf. My guess is that it’s another Hutt.” 

<< The upstart Fa’athra lays claim to things that are mine. He moves against my factories, sends his scum to make trouble in Jiguuna. Some fools think Fa’athra is becoming a stronger hutt than Nem’ro. One is Yalt, my ex-accountant. Yalt now works for Fa’athra at the factory in the Rust Yards. The accountant must die for his betrayal. >>

“So find Yalt and kill him. Sounds simple enough.” 

<< After the accountant Yalt is dead, take his head to the cantina. Yalt’s wife works there. She _encouraged_ his disloyalty to me. Give Yalt’s head to her. >>

“Killing people is one thing,” Hrafnhar said, folding her arms over her chest. “Emotionally scarring their widows is another thing _entirely_.” 

It would cost extra and she was entitled to bitch about it. 

<< If you’re going to the Great Hunt, you must be willing to do _anything_ , little girl. >> Nem’ro scoffed. << Fa’athra protects Yalt behind a blast-proof security door, but someone smart like you will find a way in. Go, show Yalt what it means to cross Nem’ro. >>

The houk stopped her with one meaty arm as she started to leave. “See Juda when you want credits. She pay you for dead savage.” 

“Thanks,” Hrafnhar pushed past the houk and went to find Juda, knowing that she wasn’t going to be paid her worth because Nem’ro had something she wanted. 

But if she could make it into the Great Hunt, none of this would matter. Therefore, all of it was worth it. 

She just had to picture the look on the Aristocra’s face when she found out, and everything was okay again. 

* * *

At least Hrafnhar _liked_ blowing up generators. She reflected on this after setting the final charges and before heading into the factory to deal with Yalt. There was nothing _messy_ about blowing up generators. The small feeling in her stomach that protested as she removed Yalt’s head was quiet when she was blowing up generators. 

It would have been easier if Yalt had been some young guy all full of spit and vinegar, but he was just some geezer. Hrafnhar flicked as much of the blood as she could off her hands and resolved to find something that passed for a nice bath to get rid of the gore she was elbow deep in. 

But that would have to wait until she was finished scarring an old woman. Hrafnhar did not feel _good_ about this job. If she let herself she would probably feel _bad_ about this job. The solution was to do it quickly and not think too hard between handing the head over and the stiffest drink the cantina was likely to serve her. 

Which on Hutta should be a pretty fucking stiff drink. 

Hrafnhar quieted the discomfort in her stomach with promises of hard liquor and found Yalt’s wife. 

“Can I help… what is _that?_ ” the hapless woman asked, looking at the bloody bag Hrafnhar was holding. Hrafnhar set the head down on the table between them and tried not to notice the way the wife recoiled. “ _Yalt!_ ” the poor woman screamed. 

Hrafnhar left the head with her, turning around and deadening her ears to the screams that followed her back to the bar. She slid onto a stool. “The stiffest drink you can serve my species,” she said with a tired sigh. “Small.” 

The woman at the bar looked at the blood on Hrafnhar’s arms and nodded once, turning around and turning back with a cup half-full of something blue that smelled like radiator fluid. 

Tasted like radiator fluid too. 

Hrafnhar remained sitting for a good ten minutes before she stood and ordered a room for the night. She wouldn’t get to _use it_ until after she’d spoken with Nem’ro. 

<< Here is the fraud, >> said a rodian female from behind her as Hrafnhar passed. << Useless weakling Mako pretends is bounty hunter. >>

Hrafnhar turned and cocked an eyebrow, feeling the booze in her stomach as she did. “Am I supposed to have any idea who the fuck you are?” 

<< That’s because you’re stupid. Tarro Blood doesn’t want you in Great Hunt. Smart person would take the hint. You’re not smart. >>

“And where _is_ that walking tampon anyway?” Hrafnhar asked dryly. “I need to shove a blaster up his ass.” 

<< I hear all about how your weak master is butchered! Now you have no team, no support. Tarro Blood tells me I take you out, he makes sure I get in Great Hunt. Even if I have to let Blood win, just being in Great Hunt is big honor. >>

“I can kill you too, it’s really not something I have to block into my schedule.” Hrafnhar’s hand inched towards her blaster. 

<< I think after I go in Great Hunt. I come back and have statue made of me stepping on your head. >>

“Funny.” Hrafnhar pulled her blaster and shot the rodian in the chest. “I was thinking the same damn thing.” She fired a few more times, just until the twitching stopped, and made a face. Today had been _unpleasant_ and the drink had tasted a _lot_ like radiator fluid. She turned, leaving the body where it had fallen, and continued the walk to Nem’ro’s court. 

<< There she is! >> Nem’ro announced as she entered the room. << My spies say Yalt’s wife left town as if all the akk dogs on Hutta were after her. A truly prodigious warrior. So fierce of spirit. >>

“Sponsorship,” Hrafnhar said crossly, not really in the mood for any of Nem’ro’s banthashit. “And then I need a bath.” 

<< Soon, soon, my impatient bounty hunter. >>

Hrafnhar frowned. 

<< I have one more simple task for you. Something I need an outsider for. The traitor in my house is my own beastmaster. He plots against me and thinks I do not know. Go to the beast pits and pull the alarm switch. When the beastmaster comes, kill him. >>

“I still haven’t been paid for Yalt,” she reminded him. 

Nem’ro pointed her towards Juda’s office and Hrafnhar scowled but went. Juda gave her a worried smile, eyeing all the blood. Hrafnhar shrugged nonchalantly, also uncomfortable with the amount of blood she was wearing but unwilling to admit it. 

At least this next job was _close_. 

Hrafnhar headed for the elevator and pushed the button that would take her down to the beast pits, grateful that she’d taken ten minutes to let her system start to process her drink before this banthashit. 

The pit smelled like various animals and the resulting concoction could be described most favorably as “manky.” Hrafnhar wrinkled her nose and hit the alarm with a closed fist before pulling her second blaster and waiting for the beastmaster to show up. 

“You call me just like Nem’ro said you would,” snarled the beastmaster from the other side of the gate. “So stupid.” 

Hrafnhar frowned and wonder just how colossally suicidal it would be to mount a hutt’s head on her wall. 

Probably massively. 

“Now I kill you and Nem’ro give me big reward.” 

“Ballsier men than you have tried,” Hrafnhar pointed out. 

“You think I not prepared? So stupid!” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Free the beasts!” 

Hrafnhar moved so her back was to a wall and waited as the hatch overhead opened, giving Nem’ro a view of the carnage. She focused on the task at hand.

Killing beasts was nice. They were in a lot of cases more dangerous than other people and no one tried to make Hrafnhar feel bad from blasting them in half. She ran, ducked and wove around the beast pit, firing both blasters and the occasional wrist missile as she worked, dancing to the rhythm of the blood in her head. 

“My poor, sweet Fleshripper!” screamed the beastmaster as the last and largest beast hit the ground. “I kill you.” 

“Perfect.” Hrafnhar turned and launched a missile right as the gate opened, blasting the beastmaster to jelly. She drank in the applause from upstairs and headed back to the elevator, only a little mad that Nem’ro had apparently set her up. 

<< Mighty hunter! >> Nem’ro praised as she returned. << You killed terrible beasts from Hutta and beyond—and the beast master too! >>

Hrafnhar cocked an eyebrow. 

<< Deception was the only way I could eliminate my beastmaster without upsetting things here. >>

“So you going to sponsor me or not?”

<< I did not expect you to survive the beast pits, >> Nem’ro admitted without a shred of shame or guilt. << Carnus said you would prevail but— >>

“I hear about little hunter kill spree in Rust Yards,” explained the houk who apparently had a name. 

<< Yes, >> Nem’ro nodded as he spoke. << I should have listened to you, my friend. Now, what’s done is done. >>

“I’m not going to like this, am I?”

<< A representative of the Great Hunt will be here shortly. When he arrives, you would merely have to hand him my sponsorship token to enter the Great Hunt. Unfortunately, >> not that he looked even the littlest bit contrite about it, << I already gave the Great Hunt sponsorship token to someone else. >>

Hrafnhar considered _again_ how stupid it would be to shoot a hutt in the face in plain view. 

<< The sponsorship is just a token. A small holo with my authorization given to its bearer. Someone fierce and deadly on Hutta has the sponsorship token. If you want it so badly, find him and take it. >> Nem’ro laughed. 

Hrafnhar snorted. “Description and last known whereabouts.” 

<< Rely on your little Mako for that. >>

Hrafnhar saw Juda for payment concerning the beastmaster mess and ran into Mako in the bar. 

Mako gave her a tired smile. “Hey girl, we’ve been had. Nem’ro’s already sponsored someone for the Great Hunt.” 

“Yep,” Hrafnhar said. “And shooting him would be a poor career move.” 

“Bet you don’t know who it is though.” Mako’s smile shifted to something a little more fierce. “I know who got Nem’ro’s sponsorship token _and_ how to find him. I’ll tell you everything, but I’ve got a price.” 

“I’m shocked, really,” Hrafnhar said dryly. “What is it?” 

“Braden taught me how to fight, and you _know_ I’m great with information. Take me with you—on this hunt and whatever comes after.” Mako planted her feet to make her seem immobile. 

Hrafnhar stared at her. 

Firstly, she had thought Mako wanted money. 

Secondly, she worked alone but would need support for the Great Hunt so obviously she had assumed she and Mako were working together for the duration. 

Thirdly, she wasn’t just going to strand Braden’s kid on fucking Hutta, she wasn’t a _monster_. At least not when the kid was useful. 

Nevermind that Mako, being human, was probably at least a year older than Hrafnhar was. Chiss ages were different. 

“Obviously.” She said, folding her arms over her chest. “I thought that was understood.” 

“I’m good with a blaster, and Braden was like a father to me. It’s not fair that—” Mako cut herself off mid-argument. “Wait. Did you just say yes?” 

“Assuming we were both speaking Basic, yeah.” Hrafnhar smirked at her. “It’ll be just like a girly sleepover. We’ll talk about boys and shoot people and who knows, maybe we’ll make out.” 

Mako snorted and shook her head, her smile warmer. “Thank you. Braden was sweet, but he always treated me like a child. I’m _not_ a child, so thank you.” She cleared her throat. “I want to be there when we find Braden’s killer. I want that more than anything. So let’s go find Nem’ro’s bounty hunter.” 

“That works better when you _give me a name_.” Hrafnhar pointed out. 

“Right. The hunter we’re after is name Rarsk. He’s a Trandoshan and serious bad news. Burned a whole village alive on Dantooine.” 

“Charmer.” 

“I intercepted a transmission between Rarsk and, get this, the bone-faced freak who was following me. Remember me warning you about him.” 

“It was earlier today, so, yes. Think they’re a team?” 

“No clue.” Mako shrugged. “We’d better prepare for anything. Rarsk is collecting on a bounty Fa’athra the Hutt, Nem’ro’s rival, is holding for him. A Republic scientist or something. All _we_ have to do is break into Fa’athra’s ridiculously well-guarded palace in the swamp, find the scientist ourselves and set a trap for Rarsk.” 

“This team thing is totally not going to stuck. I vote manicures next.” 

“It gets better. Turns out Fa’athra keeps interesting people on his payroll, and by _interesting_ I mean they have prices on their heads.” Mako produced her holo and it flickered through a number of faces. “If we want to seriously compete in the Great Hunt, or even get off this mudball, we need the extra credits from these bounties.” 

“And I do love the words _extra credits_.” Hrafnhar mused. 

“Come on, Fa’athra’s palace is waiting.” 

* * *

Mako was not a _great_ shot, but she had the potential to improve with some practice and running around with Hrafnhar was going to provide ample opportunity. Fa’athra’s palace was close enough to Nem’ro’s that it was easy to see why Jiguuna had become a huttdick measuring ground. Hrafnhar had to stop herself from running ahead a number of times, but Mako tried to keep up and that was something. 

They took out security around the palace and checked faces against the bounties Mako had found, collecting the ident tags of the right people and continuing until they reached the inside of the palace and Mako pulled up a map to help them better find the lab. 

Hrafnhar felt like she must have killed half of Fa’athra’s workforce by the time they reached the lab. She didn’t feel bad about it, she was just a little tired. Entering the lab, Hrafnhar shot the men with guns that were crowding around her bounty and managed a jaunty smile down the barrel of her blaster as it pointed at the frightened woman’s chest. “Hiya, bait.” 

“Please,” she pleaded. “Just tell me why I’m being held here?” 

“This her?” Hrafnhar asked, looking at Mako. 

“She fits the target description.” Mako shrugged. “Now we just wait for Rarsk to show.” Mako turned her attention to the scientist. “Short version, lady: There’s a bounty hunter coming to take you to the Empire where you’ll probably die or at least be tortured.” 

“Bait” looked like she was going to faint. 

“We,” Mako indicated herself and Hrafnhar, “want to kill this bounty hunter, so it’s your lucky day. Just sit quietly and be bait-like.” 

“For once,” Hrafnhar said, still smiling. “I’m not going to be the bad guy.” 

She had to wonder how good the bounty was. Probably the Empire wanted the woman alive which would have been difficult to manage concurrently with Hrafnhar’s designs on the Great Hunt. 

She might have to let this one slip past her. 

Damn it. 

“I’m not cut out for this,” stammered Bait. “Please let me go. I’ll do anything to—”

“What part of _sit quietly_ didn’t you understand?” Mako groaned. “You’re going to blow our,” she looked over her shoulder. “Oh _great_.” 

Rarsk was a yellow Trandoshan with his blaster pulled but pointed in the general direction of the group rather than at anyone specific. Probably he didn’t know whether she or Mako was the bounty hunter, which made him an _idiot_ because Mako looked about as threatening as a soaked kitten (plenty pissed off and scratchy, not particularly lethal.) 

<< Hello, soft things. >> growled Rarsk. << I see many Fa’athra servants are dead. Give me the scientist female, and you will not join them. >>

Hrafnhar shot him in the head because she couldn’t think of anything witty to say and it had been a _very_ long day. 

The scientist screamed. 

Hrafnhar strolled over to the body and kicked it a few times to be certain it was dead before she stooped to rummage through his pockets, finding his cred-stick and the sponsorship holo. 

“That was kind of amazing.” Mako said. 

“I like mocking them first,” Hrafnhar lamented. “Makes me feel _tingly_.” She kicked the body again. 

“That was… brutal,” Bait said from where she was cowering. “But I owe you my thanks.” 

“Got that right, girl,” Mako beamed a little. “We’re the heroes of the day.” 

“So… what happens now?” 

Hrafnhar sighed. “ _Normally_ and on a _good_ day I’d collect the bounty on you _myself_. But the Empire wants you alive and that’s a hassle I can’t be bothered to put up with right now. So today is a bad day for me but you get to go free I guess. I’d suggest getting that tight little ass off Hutta as fast as you fucking can.” 

Bait took off running. 

Mako looked at Hrafnhar. “Would you really have collected on the bounty yourself? Even knowing what the Empire wants to do to her?” 

“There’s not really room for a conscience in this line of work, Mako. If I worried about the end game for everyone of my bounties I’d never get anything fucking done.” Hrafnhar clapped Mako on the shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get back to Nem’ro and then get _off_ this mudball.” 

* * *

Nem’ro looked a little surprised to see Hrafnhar again, but not particularly fazed. No matter who won between her and Rarsk, the strongest hunter on Hutta would carry Nem’ro’s name into the Great Hunt and that was good for him politically. 

Hrafnhar, tired, a little sore, and still dealing with the blood caked on her elbows, wasn’t in the mood for his laughter but there wasn’t a whole lot she could do about it. She walked into the court with Mako at her side and caught the end of a conversation between a Kaleesh and Nem’ro. 

“Very well, Nem’ro. When the Trandoshan returns I shall—” he cut off as heads turned to greet Hrafnhar and she could swear there was a hint of a smile in his words. “Ah, I see we have a new player in the game after all.” 

“That’s the bone-masked creep that followed me.” Mako’s hand shot for her blaster. “Get him!” 

Hrafnhar was all to aware of the other weapons in the room as they pointed at her and Mako. 

<< Ha, >. Nem’ro chuckled. << Little Mako, so fiery. >>

“Hunter,” the kaleesh addressed Hrafnhar. “Allow me to apologize if I spooked your young friend.” 

Mako blistered behind her but Hrafnhar nodded. She turned around and gave Mako a _look_ until the other woman lowered her weapon and the atmosphere in the room relaxed a little. 

“I regret that I startled you, young woman.” The kaleesh gave Mako a small nod. “I was pursuing another quarry when we crossed paths. I am Grataa. It is my honor to represent the Great Hunt. I have been investigating possible malfeasance by one Tarro Blood.” 

“Yeah, he’s cheating.” Hrafnhar crossed her arms over her chest. “Or near enough, I’m not actually clear on the technical fucking rules.” 

“I reviewed your security holorecording and witnessed the murder of your teammates by Tarro’s men.” Grataa shook his head. “While dishonorable, the attack wasn’t technically against the rules. Unless Tarro attacks another competitor, he cannot be punished.” 

“So the fact that he’s a little bitch is actually playing to his favor?” Hrafnhar could scarcely believe it. 

“Be cautious accusing Mandalorians of cowardice. They do not take such insults lightly.” 

“Then maybe he should nut the fuck up,” Hrafnhar folded her arms over her chest. 

Grataa shrugged, having given his warning and apparently unwilling to comment further on it. “I shall continue to monitor Tarro Blood’s activities. If he breaks the Great Hunt’s rules, he will pay for it.” 

“Well that’s _something_ at least.” It wouldn’t be enough for Mako, but she’d learn to live with disappointment until Hrafnhar got Tarro in her sights. 

“I have remained here to give the Trandoshan, Rarsk, instructions for the Great Hunt. It seems this is no longer necessary.” 

Hrafnhar produced the holo from her pocket. “Nope. They’re my instructions now.” 

<< You have my token and recognition as the most fearsome hunter on Hutta. >> Nem’ro beamed. 

Hrafnhar ignored him. 

“Indeed.” Grataa nodded. “You have proven yourself worthy of the Great Hunt. But the competition is only the beginning. From here you must go to Dromund Kaas, the Imperial capital. There are your shuttle passes.” 

She handed one to Mako. 

Mako’s expression softened. “I wish Braden could see this.” She cleared her throat and blinked rapidly to keep from tearing up. “At least _now_ we can make his killer pay.” 

“Fuckin’ right?” Hrafnhar sighed. “We’ll get him, Mako.” 

“You’re the best.” 

“When you arrive on Dromund Kaas,” Grataa continued when Hrafnhar looked back at him. “Seek the Huntmaster in the Mandalorian enclave. He will answer all your questions about the Great Hunt.”

“Shuttle leaves tomorrow right?” 

“First thing in the morning.” 

Hrafnhar let her shoulders relax a little. “Good, I’d like to be fresh for it.” 

* * *

They stayed that night in the palace, sharing a room. Hrafnhar spent a good long while in a bath, letting the hot water soothe away a long and mostly disappointing day. She washed her long black hair and sighed. 

Sulking wasn’t like her. She shook the discontent away, she’d made it into the Great Hunt. This was something to celebrate, not sulk over. Yeah, she’d lost Braden in the mix but deaths happened and usually they were Hrafnhar’s fault. 

Besides, she had designs on avenging him. It was fine. 

Hrafnhar toweled off and pulled on her clean change of clothes before heading back into the bedroom proper. She flopped onto her bed. “Think the cantina delivers?” she asked Mako. “Because I could go for a whiskey but do _not_ want to put up with people.” 

Mako shook her head and stretched out on her mattress. She looked over at Hrafnhar and tried for a smile. “About the whole _Great Hunt_ thing… Thanks. It’d mean a lot to Braden that you stuck with it.” 

“Well, I’ve got a Great Cunt so rhythmically I should be ahead of everyone else in the competition.” She winked. “Don’t mention it.” 

Mako wrinkled her nose but laughed a little. Her expression softened again, the grief battling some happy memory. “Great Hunt was Braden’s _dream_. Talked about it for years. Day he told me he’d found you…” Mako sighed and shook her head a little. “Should’ve seen him. Grinning and laughing so much I thought his face would split in half.” 

“He knew how to laugh?” Hrafnhar cocked an eyebrow. “I got the _occasional_ smile out of him.” 

“Thought maybe he’d gone crazy.” Mako shook her head. “Winning this thing, it would have meant more to him then revenge.” 

“And lucky bastard gets both if we can swing it.” Hrafnhar rolled to her stomach. “Tarro Blood tried to fuck me and I’m very particular about the men I fuck.” 

Mako laughed again. “You’re so _warped_.” 

“Maybe. Or maybe I just know how to live.” She stretched out. “Get some sleep. We’ve got a long and early day tomorrow.” 


	2. It's Raining, It's Pouring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar competes for the last entry spot in the Great Hunt.

Hrafnhar woke up before Mako, did her hair and packed before nudging the other woman awake. “C’mon,” she said, stifling a yawn. “We miss this shuttle we’re stuck here forever.” 

“Nooo,” whined a half-asleep Mako as she sat up. Hrafnhar sat around while Mako dressed and together they headed out into the early morning. 

The shuttle port was mostly empty and Hrafnhar was pleased to learn that her and Mako’s seats were good ones with plenty of legroom. She dozed during most of the flight to the Imperial fleet, where their itinerary said they’d catch a transport to Dromund Kaas. 

Mako fidgeted, equal parts miserable and excited. Hrafnhar watched her with vague interest. Mako _should_ have been making this trip with someone she cared about, not a woman she barely knew. 

She was holding it together pretty well, all things considered. Hrafnhar chose to be impressed. 

They transferred shuttles. 

“Ever been to Dromund Kaas?” Hrafnhar asked. 

Mako shook her head. “You?” 

“Once or twice. Big fuck off jungle, wetter than a nautolan cunt.” 

“Ew.” Mako wrinkled her nose. 

Hrafnhar laughed. “It’s pretty in its way. Lotsa lightning.” She rolled her head on her shoulders. 

“So where’re you from?” 

“I don’t talk about it,” Hrafnhar said. “We’re going to do this, that’s like, the one thing you need to actually understand, Mako: I am who I am and we don’t talk about how I got here.” Mako wilted a little and Hrafnhar gave her a grin. “It’s not all that interesting _anyway_. What I’m _going_ to do, that’s the interesting shit.” 

They landed on Dromund Kaas and caught a taxi to Kaas City, watching the raindrops as they splorched on the glass. Lightning flashed in the distance, attracted to the tall towers that directed it away from the cities and made life livable here in the heart of the Empire. 

The taxi took them all the way to the Mandalorian enclave and Hrafnhar and Mako jogged a little until they were under cover before walking in at a very controlled and leisurely pace. 

The Mandalorians, galactically speaking, were kind of a big deal. Currently they were allied with the Empire, but given how they governed knowing where any individual clan stood about anything was anyone’s guess. They talked a good game, but Hrafnhar hadn’t seen anything that implied to her that Mandalorians were better than anyone else. 

They just seemed to have more rules. 

Not that she was going to point that out to _them_. Particularly not while in the middle of their center of operations in the middle of their fuck off huge tournament. 

The enclave was swarming with hunters and Hrafnhar and Mako just had to follow the crowd. Their contact was named Crysta Markon, Mako had a picture of her that Grataa had forwarded. Hrafnhar spotted her and reached back for Mako’s hand. 

“What gives?” Mako sputtered as Hrafnhar jerked her close. 

“We don’t want to get separated, kid,” Hrafnhar advised. “Best if we stick close.” 

“So we’re holding hands.” Mako said flatly. 

“Unless you’ve got a better idea. Crysta’s over there,” she pointed and started tugging Mako through the crowd, half-expecting the other woman to put up a fight. Mako went along willingly and Hrafnhar wove through the crowd and gave Crysta (an older human female with a ruddy brown mohawk) a winning smile.

“We are here for the Great Hunt.” Mako said. “We have been sponsored by Nem’ro the Hutt.” 

Crysta looked them up and down, her eyes fixing on their held hands for a moment and then jumping back to Hrafnhar’s face. Her expression softened a little. “An all-girls hunter team? Good for you. How long you two been together?” 

“Long enough, to have each other’s backs.” She considered winking but figured Mako might literally die of mortification. 

“Fantastic. Rare to see that kinda _solidarity_ in our business, you know?” 

“Oh,” Hrafnhar laughed a little bit. “I _know_.” 

Crysta’s smile dimmed. “Now, you probably ain’t gonna like what I’m about to tell you, but there’s nothing I can do about it, understand? There’s _one_ spot open in the Great Hunt, and over three _dozen_ hunters who got sponsorships.” 

“Well it sucks shit to be everyone else then.” Hrafnhar gave a determined nod, still holding Mako’s hand. 

“It’s yours if you can get it,” Crysta said with a small shrug. “Lotsa folks will be thinking the same thing though. The Huntmaster himself will explain how we’re gonna sort things out. Head into the main room, and show some respect. When the Huntmaster’s done talking, come on back here. I’ll be handling you from here on out.” 

“Thanks,” Hrafnhar said, and then headed towards the main room. 

“We can probably stop holding hands now,” Mako said in a low voice. “People are going to start assuming you’re my _mom_.” 

“People are going to assume I spread you out on my mattress like a soft cheese,” Hrafnhar corrected, letting Mako’s hand fall away. She smiled at the other woman’s furious blush. “Don’t worry, I only prey on the interested.” 

Mako’s jaw hung open for a long while and she had to jog to actually keep up as Hrafnhar headed into the main room where the Huntmaster (a bigass pale wookie) was waiting to give his speech to the hopefuls. 

“Quiet!” shouted a human to the Huntmaster’s left. “Quiet you dogs! The Huntmaster is about to speak. Pay attention and show some respect for once in your lives!” 

<< The Great Hunt is upon us! >> warbled the Huntmaster. << Many will hunt. Many will die. All will win glory and honor. Today we have too many hunters. All must compete. Only one joins the Great Hunt. >>

“You heard the Huntmaster,” said the human, Hrafnhar assumed he was some sort of second in command. “You’re competing for the last spot in the Great Hunt by taking down three bounties on Dromund Kaas.” 

“You expect us to hunt here?” someone shouted. “With Imperials crawling all over us? And _Sith_?” 

“I wasn’t aware I was showing up for the annual dickless parade,” Hrafnhar scoffed, mostly under her breath. “It’s a job like any other fucking job.” 

“For all you overblown, useless, no-talent cowards, we installed a handy exit door,” the second-in-command pointed. “Use it now.” 

A couple of people actually left. 

“The rest of you, the real hunters, go see your handlers. They’ll get you oriented to the planet and assign you three unique bounties. Everyone who takes down all three of their bounties wins a spot in the final melee. Anyone who doesn’t get all three is out.”

The hunters, Hrafnhar and Mako included, flooded back out the door. Hrafnhar lost Mako in the crowd as she made her way to Crysta 

This was why they’d been holding hands. Mako was small and easily lost in crowds. Crysta gave her a smile. “A dozen cowards just scurried out of here, probably won’t stop ‘til Dromund Kaas is light-years behind them.” 

“Good for them,” Hrafnhar said with a lazy smile. “Door hit any of them on the ass?” 

“Shit,” Crysta laughed, “the lot of them were moving too fast for that.” 

Mako found them and Crysta straightened a little. “You understand the basics, right? Three bounties, hardest targets on Dromund Kaas. Gotta get all three to qualify for the final melee.” 

“Exciting, can’t wait to get started.”

Hrafnhar loved her job, and she was dedicated to it. This was just cutting out the middleman of having to pick her targets for herself. 

“Oh, I like you. You’re even crazier than the rest of these hunters.” Crysta laughed. “Let’s see who your first target is…” her expression changed to one of concern as she looked at the datapad. “Whoa. This can’t be right. You got enemies among the Mandalorians or something?” 

“Just Tarro Blood, the Mandalorian who killed Braden.” Mako folded her arms over her chest. “What’d he do?” 

“I wouldn’t wish this bounty on anybody. Gotta play the hand you’re dealt though.” 

Hrafnhar raised an eyebrow. 

“The target’s a Republic noble, name of Altaca. He got captured during an Imperial raid, brought back here and sold into slavery by mistake.” 

“Sucks to be him. Dead or alive?” 

“It ain’t that simple. Altaca’s slave group was building a big ol’ statue in the jungle. The slaves rebelled and took over the site. Nobody can get in there. We don’t even know if he’s still alive.” Crysta shrugged. “If he is, the family will pay big.” 

“Mmm, credits.” Hrafnhar smiled. “What if he’s dead?” 

“They’ll pay for a body, but not as much as if he were alive. Details are on the hire slip. The slaves got themselves a tent camp near that statue they never finished. If Altaca’s still kicking, he’s probably somewhere in there.” 

Hrafnhar nodded.

“Before you go,” Crysta produced a case holding a clunky bracer. “Meet your new best friend—the S86k full-gauge carbonite armor upgrade.” 

“Ooooh,” Hrafnhar gasped. “I’ve wanted one of these for _ages_.” The S86k was one of the latest models, still to slow to be any use unless the target was either willing or too badly beaten to squirm around much, but lighter and more compact. Much more efficient than the shock cuffs she _usually_ used for live prey. 

Although it was pretty funny to have crime bosses trussed up like roasts and slung over the back of the speeder. 

“You find that Republic noble fella and claim that first bounty, then hurry it on back here fast as you can.” 

“Will do.” Hrafnhar said, snapping the upgrade into place. “Will, fucking, do.” 

* * *

The slave revolt was causing problems all over Dromund Kaas and Hrafnhar mostly just cared because it was causing problems for her in the immediate. With Mako on the back of the rented speeder, Hrafnhar blew through the rainy jungle and past armed and angry slaves to look for the tent city and some clue as to Altaca’s whereabouts. 

“What do you make of all this?” Mako shouted over the wind and the weather, her arms wrapped tight around Hrafnhar’s middle. 

“That I’m hoping the next bounty is _inside_ ,” Hrafnhar shouted back. 

They pulled over when they found the tents and Hrafnhar had Mako stand guard while she rifled through the scant slave belongings for anything that would point her in the right direction. Standing in the middle of a slave revolt wasn’t the safest place to be, but as long as they worked fast they’d be alright. 

Altaca’s datapad. Jackpot. 

Hrafnhar handed it to Mako for decryption and a minute later selected the most recent message. 

“My dear Altaca,” said the imperial noble woman on the holo. “When I got your message, I could scarcely believe it. We have found each other after all these years.” 

“Oh,” Mako grinned. “Looks like a love letter, from an Imperial noble no less. Juicy.” 

“Potentially _very_ juicy.” 

“It must have been the Force that brought you here to Dromund Kaas, dear Altaca,” croon the noblewoman. “As for your predicament, fear not. I have friends in high place and,for the right price, they have agreed to help me. When the slaves attempt their pitiful revolution, a man will come to you dressed in rags. He will bring you to me. I shall say you are my missing brother, we will be Lord and Lady Dak-ah.” 

And there was a name. 

“I’m afraid I cannot get you offworld and back to your beloved family, but I promise to make you every moment here a joy. Our lifestyle will be the envy of all, and we’ll attend parties at the Nexus Room every night. Be ready to join me, my love.” 

Mako wrinkled her nose. “Wait, so the lady is his lover, but now he’s posing as her brother? That’s disgusting.” 

“It’s a weird kink,” Hrafnhar shrugged. “But not as uncommon in the Empire as you’d think.” 

“Gross.” 

“ _Extremely_.” 

Mako sighed. “Let’s go meet this Lord and Lady Dak-Ah.” She gave Hrafnhar a grin. “Lead on, Boss.” 

Hrafnhar revved up the speeder and headed back to Kaas City, Mako’s cheek settled between her shoulder blades like a comfortable weight. They parked outside the Nexus Room Cantina and Hrafnhar stretched out her legs. 

“Think he’ll come quietly?” she asked Mako. 

Mako shrugged. “I hope so for his sake. You look like you’re itching to beat someone within an inch of their life.” 

“What? No,” Hrafnhar smiled and shook her head. “Just excited about finally getting to try out my new toy.” 

Entering the cantina, however, posed a problem, as there was a small flock of Imperial guards blocking the door.

“There sir,” one of them pointed at Hrafnhar. “Just as I said.” 

“That looks like her, all right.” The man in front puffed up his chest to make himself seem larger. “Bounty Hunter, I am Sergeant Wallax of the Imperial Navy. You are commanded to hand over all of your weapons and gear immediately.” 

Hrafnhar cocked an eyebrow, taking a step to be certain she was between the officer and Mako. “There some reason I should comply with this little request?” 

“Just stay calm and hand over your weapons.” He sniffed. “Your lucky to be breathing the same air as me, alien. Don’t push your luck.” 

“Ooh, that anti-alien sentiment applies to Chiss. This is why I’m surprised the alliance isn’t in fucking shambles.” 

Whatever Sergeant Wallax had been about to saw was interrupted by his holo going off. Wallax produced it and a mini Tarro Blood formed up in his palm. 

“Tarro Blood here,” Blood said lazily. “Have you completed my little errand yet?” 

“Blood! You steaming pile of filth,” Mako almost lunged forward but Hranhar caught her with one hand and dragged her back. 

“Blast it!” swore the Sergeant. “I told you not to call on this channel.” 

“I thought “Imperial Officer” and “Mandalorian’s Bitch” were mutually exclusive titles,” quipped Hrafnhar. “Though if your head is so far up his ass that you’re doing his dirty laundry, maybe they’re the same thing.” 

“She’s still alive?” Tarro looked at Hrafnhar with surprised disdain before turning it all back around on Sergeant Wallax. “What is _wrong_ with you, Sergeant?” 

“Uh, sir? Who is that guy?” 

Hrafnhar snorted a laugh. 

“Blood,” said Wallax. “I’ll talk to you later. Ignore the chatter, men. Let’s take this hunter in.” 

“I don’t know what’s going on here, Sarge, but I know it stinks.”

There was a small chorus of “yeahs!” from the other troopers. 

“Yeah. Either you cut us in on this deal, or we walk.” 

“Hard to spend credits if I’ve given you all new assholes,” Hrafnhar advised. 

The officers looked to one another nervously as they took stock of precisely how armed she was and the arm muscles on display. 

Hrafnhar raised an eyebrow, happy to walk away with or without dolling out a beating. 

“That makes a whole lot of sense,” said one of the troopers. “Let’s get out of here.” 

He and most of his buddies took off at a quick pace and by the time Wallax looked back at Hrafnhar her blaster was in his face. “Uh-oh,” she teased. “This didn’t go to plan _at all_.” She shot him dead and stepped over the body. “C’mon Mako, let’s go.” 

“Yeah,” Mako kicked the sergeant in the side just once to vent her own frustrations but then kept easy pace with Hrafnhar to the elevator that would take them up to the fancy party where they hoped to find the Dak-Ahs. 

Hrafnhar bobbed her head to the music and looked around for the woman from the holo, finding her in a corner with a man who looked like he was trying very hard to convince himself that this was fun. Hrafnhar pulled out the hunt slip and checked his face against Altaca’s, smiling more brightly when it was a match. 

“There’s our date,” she nudged Mako with her elbow. “Let’s go say hello.” 

They walked over and Hrafnhar cleared her throat loudly, wearing a jaunty smile. 

“Yes, may I help you with something?” Lord Dak-Ah, _Altaca_ , said in an accent that was really, really bad. 

“Darling, please don’t speak to that… thing.” Lady Dak-Ah sniffed. “It’s clearly not supposed to be here and we shouldn’t let ourselves look like we approve. Come, let us get a drink.” 

Hrafnhar’s jaunty smile sharpened at being called a _thing_. The Empire had always been awful about non-humans and non-purebloods, but they were, most days, better about Chiss. 

“For siblings you don’t look a lot alike,” Hrafnhar said smuggly and _just_ loud enough for them to have to worry about her causing a scandal. 

“We, ah, we had different mothers.” Lord Dak-Ah stammered. “Yes, that, um, that’s right. We’re only half-siblings.” He looked at his “sister” and cowed. “Unless I’m misremembering.” 

“Stow it, darling,” Lady Dak-Ah’s glare was sharp and hot. “Just feel the smug knowledge radiate from her. We knew this might happen eventually.” 

Mako shrugged. “Yeah, only so long you can keep dating your brother before something goes wrong.” 

“Like babies with flippers,” snickered Hrafnhar. 

“So you know our little secret.” Lady Dak-Ah tried to affect more exasperation than rage and failed. “What does an _insignificant_ creature like you want? What would make you _dare_ threaten a noble?” 

“Altaca’s mom misses him.” Hrafnhar folded her arms over her chest. “A lot, if she’s affording my rates.” 

“That means…” Altaca dropped the act like it was red hot. He whirled on Lady Dak-Ah. “You told me I was trapped here. That I would have to _forget_ my family. That this, this _charade_ was the only way!” 

“Inside voice, darling,” snapped Lady Dak-Ah. “I may have exaggerated a bit but hasn’t it been nice here? The parties, the late nights, the intrigues.” 

“You bitch! Keeping me here as a plaything when I could have been home with my sisters and dear mother.”

“Wow,” commented Hrafnhar under her breath to Mako. “It wasn’t even consensual sexy-sibling roleplay. That’s a whole _new_ level of weirdness for Dromund Kaas.”

“Ugh,” Lady Dak-Ah sniffed. “You can be such a whiny pain. It’s a wonder you’re nobility.” She turned to Hrafnhar. “Let us make a _new_ deal, bounty hunter.” 

“I’m expensive and you called me a thing which makes me charge extra.” 

Lady Dak-Ah turned back to Altaca. “My darling, my lovely Altaca. Wouldn’t you rather stay here with me than run home to your pathetic Republic family?”

“ _What_? Of course not! You treat me like a pet and this planet is disgusting. In fact, I’d rather—”

Lady Dak-Ah cut him off with a raise of her hand. “Yes, yes, you’ve made your tiresome viewpoint clear.” She looked back at Hrafnhar. “Then here is what I propose. I assume Altaca’s family will pay less for his body. Kill him, show me the slip, and I’ll compensate you the difference.” 

“Wha-what? You want her to kill me?” 

“Let me guess, if you can’t have him no one else can?” Hrafnhar asked dryly. 

Lady Dak-Ah nodded. 

“That’s so fucking boring. I’m taking him alive.” Hrafnhar looked at Mako. “Gun on the lady please, in case she tries to interfere.” 

Mako pulled her pistol on Lady Dak-Ah who looked more annoyed than frightened. Hrafnhar pushed a button on her wrist-piece and watched as Altace became a human popsicle, all prepared for transport. The S86k was _officially_ her new best friend. 

“You’ve made a very big mistake here today,” sniffed Lady Dak-Ah as Mako lifted her weapon away. “Now take this _thing_ and leave. Your kind does not belong here.”

“Heard it a million times.” Hrafnhar loaded Altaca up for transport. “Next time you want to play with your kink don’t throw kidnapping into it.”

* * *

Hrafnhar returned to Crysta at the enclave and, as she passed by a small group of laughing Mandalorians, had to admit that they certainly seemed more _fun_ than the Imperial Nobility. 

And maybe their kinks were a little less generally transgressive, though that probably varied mandalorian to mandalorian as much as it did from noble to noble. The enclave was less busy, but that only made sense. People were out on their hunts or running scared or dead. The volume of hunters was pretty daunting, but with the enclave mostly full of chatter in mando’a, it all felt a little less dire. 

Mando’a was, admittedly, kind of a pretty language. It was harsher and more guttural than Chuenh but more graceful than basic. 

Hrafnhar couldn’t understand a word of it and even if she might have been able to piece things together, it flowed to quickly for her ears to grasp the individual words. If a language could be a river, mando’a was both deep and wide. 

Crysta waved her and Mako both over with a smile bordering on surprised. “Hey there, hunter. Competition out there is something _crazy_.” Crysta grinned. “Couple of hunters died in the jungles. Big trandoshan got arrested by the Imperials and _you_ found yourself an unfindable Republic nobel. His family was plenty generous with their live bounty.” 

“Have I mentioned how much I love that Great Hunt bounties still pay? Because I love it a fucking lot.” 

Crysta nodded. “Your second bounty’s a bit of a mystery. Apparently whoever’s stacking the deck against you gonna keep right on stacking.” 

“Hardly surprising,” Mako huffed. 

Hrafnhar gave her shoulder a squeeze. 

“What I got here is a classified, red-flag request from Imperial Command. No details, just flashy warnings and a contact: Admiral Fraabaal, Imperial Navy.” 

“Oooo, _mystery_.” If Hrafnhar ever found Tarro Blood she was going to turn his chest cavity into a toboggan. Mako could have first ride down Hoth’s biggest hill. 

“Watch yourself in that first sit-and-squawk,” Crysta advised. “Imperials think aliens are disposable. Alien bounty hunters rank somewhere below _droids_.” 

“And to think, The Ascendancy still thinks their treaty means something.” 

Crysta gave a shrug. “Here’s the slip. Fraabaal’s in the city, not all that far a stroll. Go get ‘em.” 

Hrafnhar took the slip and left the enclave, Mako jogging to keep up. 

“Why does the treaty with the Chiss piss you off so bad?” Mako asked. 

Hrafnhar rolled her shoulders. “I just think it’s stupid. The Chiss hold up their end and in return their citizens are treated like gutter trash by every slackwit in the Empire.” She wrinkled her nose. “But you never hear about Imps getting the same treatment in Ascendancy territory. It’s just fucking stupid.” 

Mako nodded. “So it pisses you off because you think the Ascendancy deserves more?” 

Hrafnhar snorted. “The Ascendancy deserves what it gets. It just makes _my_ life a little more difficult than I’d like.” 

They made their way to Fraabaal’s office and the secretary gave Hrafnhar the stinkeye. 

She folded her arms over her chest. 

He cleared his throat. “This is the office of Admiral Fraabaal of the Imperial Navy. Do you have business here.” 

“He hired me.” 

“I don’t think so,” sniffed the secretary. “I doubt the admiral would have anything to do with _your_ kind.” 

She gave Mako a _look_ and turned her attention back to the secretary. 

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I am very busy.” 

“What do you know, we have something in common. Maybe we should make friendship bracelets.” 

“I really couldn’t care less what you—” he cut off as the comm on his desk lit up. 

“What’s all that racket out there, soldier?” Demanded an older human male with thick red hair and a matching beard. 

“There’s a quarrelsome alien here, Admiral. It refuses to leave.” 

Hrafnhar was tempted to protest the pronoun, but there wouldn’t have been much point and if _she_ got into trouble, Mako was likely to follow her right into it. 

And that wouldn’t have been _fair_. Mako had proven herself both useful and entertaining. 

“ _Quarrelsome_ ,” scoffed the admiral. “You’re as weak as you are stupid! I requested a mercenary from the Mandalorians. Send that person in _immediately_.” 

“Yes sir!” The secretary looked sufficiently cowed. “You may go in now.” 

“Someone's in _trouble_ ,” she teased. 

“You’re _terrible_ ,” Mako giggled. 

Hrafnhar gave her a smile before heading into the Admiral’s office, Mako on her heels. 

“Come in, mercenary.” The admiral waved her inside. “I apologize if my secretary caused you grief. He is of low birth and his intelligence reflects it.” 

Hrafnhar forced her spine not to straighten as the admiral addressed her with familiar respect and disdain for someone else. It had been years. She was just another bounty hunter now. 

“I’m afraid many of our Imperial soldiers are hopeless with delicate tasks. This, of course, is why I asked for a professional.” 

Hrafnhar nodded and folded her arms over her chest, spreading her weight out evenly so she looked more relaxed. 

“I have every faith in the Mandalorian enclave’s ability to get things done _discreetly._ ” He cleared his throat and looked away for a moment, when he looked back there was miserable steel in his eyes. “My daughter has become something of a liability to me. I want you to kill her.”

Hrafnhar’s mouth thinned to a line as she was forced to remember how she’d gotten _into_ this gig. “That’s something you don’t hear everyday.” 

“Then I will assume you’re newly arrived to Dromund Kaas. Things work a bit differently here.” He straightened even further with discomfort. “My daughter was born Force sensitive and trained to be Sith. A great honor for our family. Unfortunately, my daughter’s master is one Lord Grathan, a madman who is now disgraced in the eyes of the Dark Council.” 

Hrafnhar nodded her understanding. The girl would pull her whole family under with her connections. Things worked similarly under the Ascendancy. 

Though any well bred Chiss would choose their family over their other obligations. The family’s power struggle was all important. 

“Lord Grathan is a paranoid madman. His compound is built to withstand a siege, but a lone infiltrator will take them by surprise. My daughter is somewhere inside Lord Grathan’s compound. Her name is Vereta. You will know her as she resembles me closely.”

Hrafnhar nodded again. Getting sent after a sith was troubling, but it wasn’t the first time she’d done it. It was just a matter of getting the drop on Vereta and then planting enough blaster bolts in her to count. 

Hell, killing her was easier than taking her alive. 

She was still going to use Tarro Blood as a toboggan. 

“I’ll handle this quick and quiet,” she said before leaving. 

Outside Mako pulled out her datapad and then caught Hrafnhar by the elbow to keep her from mounting up the speeder. “I’ve been running some data, turns out renegade Sith Lord followers rack up death marks like crazy. Lord Grathan’s top people _all_ have prices on their heads.” 

“Mako, you’re a gift and a treasure.” 

Mako rolled her eyes but smiled a little. “We might need those credits to gear you up for the big melee.” 

“We might at that.” Hrafnhar threw one leg over the speeder and waited until Mako had joined her to power it up and head for Grathan’s compound. 

* * *

Getting _into_ the estate was one thing—Hrafnhar had blasters and the advantage of a jetpack—but _navigating_ it proved to be a whole other monster. Fortunately, Hrafnhar operated under the logic that, if no one saw you because they’ve all been blasted in half, it qualified as being stealthy. 

She and Mako found the additional bounties mostly through persistence and luck, stumbling around the compound. Hrafnhar had a big dopey grin on her face the whole time, feeling _challenged_ and loving every second of it. She kept from laughing out loud _solely_ because it wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have with Mako. 

Vereta was at least easy to spot, Hrafnhar might have been in trouble if she was wearing a hood, but there the target was, bloody red hair out for the world to see. Hrafnhar took aim and dodged out of the way as the first shot was reflected back. Hrafnhar moved while firing, blocking out the Vereta’s insane laughter as she ducked behind a console. 

The problem with hunting sith was that you had to wait for them to make a mistake. 

_Luckily_ , Vereta was young and impulsive. And she wanted to gloat. 

She lifted Hrafnhar by the throat and started to cackle. 

Hrafnhar pushed a button on her wrist and blasted carbonite in the sith’s face, it wouldn’t _freeze_ the other woman, but it was enough that she dropped Hrafnhar and staggered backwards, screaming and coughing and blinded. 

Hrafnhar shot her in the face. And then a couple of times in the chest. She took Vereta’s ident cards as proof. 

“You alright?” she asked. 

Mako nodded. “She almost nicked me, but you had her attention pretty fully.” 

“Good.” 

They left the estate the way they’d entered and headed back to Fraabaal’s office with the proof that the job was done. 

Hrafnhar forced her thoughts away from the similarities between her experience and this whole damn mess. She wouldn’t let herself wonder how her mother would have responded to the return of a victorious bounty hunter. She wouldn’t do it. 

But she walked into Fraabaal’s office more stiffly than she might have otherwise. 

“Reports of the raid on Lord Grathan’s estate are pouring in,” said the admiral. “I trust you were successful in your endeavor? My daughter Vereta is…” 

Hrafnhar handed him the ident card. 

“Here, take your credits and go. You’ll understand if I say I never want to see the face of my daughter’s murderer again.” 

Hrafnhar very nearly told him not to look in the mirror for a while, but she held back. With Tarro Blood trying to get her in trouble she needed to avoid rocking the boat more than usual. Instead she just shrugged and lead Mako back to the enclave to turn in the other bounties _and_ the special Great Hunt bounty. 

Just one more and she was in the melee. 

Crysta grinned to see her. Hrafnhar wondered if the handlers placed bets amongst themselves. It seemed likely, certainly _she_ would have been placing bets in their place. But maybe gambling wasn’t a thing Mandalorians did. Who even knew with them. 

“Here we go,” Crysta produced the third and final slip. “Bounty three. I call it: Someone’s got a _serious_ hate for my hunter. Top secret crazy, red-flag covered. This one’s for a Captain Medle in Imperial Intelligence. No other information.” 

“Look, Mako,” Hrafnhar said dryly. “We’re _popular_.” She looked back at Crysta. “Intelligence is the one at the end, right?” 

Crysta nodded. “Stay careful, get this one done and don’t get yourself dead in the process.” 

Hrafnhar grinned in response and lead Mako back to the speeder. They headed for the other end of the Capitol building, past the Sith Sanctum. 

She made it to Medle’s office without being harrassed and correctly predicted that all the harassing would be done inside for her. 

“Feeling nervous, alien?” challenged the man behind the desk, the one she assumed was Medle. “Standing in the middle of Imperial Intelligence? I could say one word or touch one button, and you’d disappear forever. Poof! Gone, just like that. Nobody would even dare to ask what happened to you.” 

Hrafnhar thought of a few choice places he could stick his threats. She was here because she’d been hired. “You have a job for me?” she said evenly, trying not to notice how Mako had taken a small step closer to her. 

“What I’m going to tell you has to stay just between you and me.” Medle relaxed visibly when his threats didn’t have an effect. “Got it?” 

“Like anyone who gets fucked for money, I can guarantee discretion,” Hrafnhar said with a small shrug. 

“Here’s the deal: There’s a huge ancient sith temple on Dromund Kaas. Used to just sit there being scary. Now the place is crawling with Sith sorcery and it’s been ordered a no-go zone for everyone. _Naturally_ , we sent a team in. My commander lead that team. Nobody came back. We can’t report any of them dead without reporting the mission, which puts me in a bind.”

“What do you need from me—us?” Hrafnhar corrected to the plural pronoun, Mako had earned her place as an actual team member. 

“If I can’t prove my commander’s dead, I can’t take over his spot, which means an ugly power vacuum. I’m hiring you to enter that temple and find the teams’ ID cards, _especially_ my commander’s. I need those IDs to create more _acceptable_ deaths for them.” 

The way he fixated on the IDs and not the lives of his men meant he just wanted the IDs back. Probably especially his commander’s, so he could take over the spot he mentioned. 

Hrafnhar, still a little annoyed about threats, was going to make him spell it out. “And if they’re alive?” 

“They’re not,” he said firmly. “And even if they are, they’re _not_. Understood?” 

Hrafnhar nodded. 

“Make sure you find an Imperial commander named Gargun. Can’t imagine there will be more than one corpse in the temple wearing commander stripes. Grab all the teams’ ID cards and double-time it back here. Quietly.” 

Hrafnhar left and stretched as she mounted the speeder. “He might try and kill us when we’re done,” she said lazily. 

“What? What makes you say that?” Mako settled on the back of the speeder. “He hired us.” 

“Spy games. We officially will know too much, so he’ll try and kill us to silence us. Just be ready when it happens.” 

“How do you know this?” 

“Spy games are spy games wherever you are. You get used to it.” 

* * *

‘Huge ancient temple that just sat there being scary’ summed up the Dark Temple pretty well. Just looking at it sent a shiver down Hrafnhar’s spine. She didn’t _like_ the Force. Some of it was residual from her upbringing, but a lot of it was the simple fact that the Force felt like cheating and where it wasn’t cheating it was just creepy. Force users could get into your head and twist you around from the inside. That was _way_ more fucked up that just shooting someone. 

Shooting someone was at least _honest_. 

Still, discomfort or no, Hrafnhar and Mako made their way to the temple on foot, keeping their eyes peeled for Medle’s team. With luck they could collect the badges quickly and be done before the temple did anything _really_ freaky. 

She grabbed Mako’s hand as the whispering started. Mako was wide-eyed and frantic. Hrafnhar exhaled through her nose. “Stick with me,” she said sternly. “Hand in hand and we’ll get through this.” 

She felt ice. Like she was back on Csaplar. Listening to the wind coming down from the mountains like the howl of some terrifying beast that gobbled up disobedient children. Hrafnhar swallowed. “We do this fast. We get out. We get paid.” 

Mako squeezed her hand in hers. “I feel like the building is going to eat me.” She gave a strained little chuckle. “How weird is that? If I lose it, please don’t leave me down here.” 

“Of course not,” Hrafnhar promised, well aware that she was probably lying. “We’re a team.” 

She could feel eyes on the back of her neck. Claws a hairsbreadth from her skin. Like being trapped in an ice cave with a wampa just barely out of reach. 

She collected the tags off the corpses, one hand holding Mako’s to keep them both grounded and ground her teeth against the whispering in her ears. Horrible, nonsensical ramblings that felt like they were trying to claw their way into her brain. 

Commander Gargun was alive, for given values. Standing in a chamber being worshipped. Hrafnhar let go of Mako’s hand so she had a blaster in each. 

The urge was there, to turn around and stick both barrels down Mako’s pretty little throat and paint the opposite wall with her brains. A beautiful spray of crimson. 

Hrafnhar swallowed the urge and pointed her guns at Commander Gargun. Pulling the trigger had never been easier. Had never been sweeter. A wide, broken smile spread over Hrafnhar’s face so hard that it hurt. The laughter that bubbled out of her mouth was not her own, too deep and rumbly to belong to her. 

A hand coiled around her wrist. 

“Hey now,” Mako snapped. “Stay with me.” 

Hrafnhar snapped back to herself and stretched her jaw to ease the ache. “Thanks kid.” 

“No problem,” Mako said, her eyes shadowed and worried. “Let’s just… let’s get out of here.” 

“Pronto.” 

They ran out of the temple as fast as they could without dropping hands, getting out of range of the whispers. Mako stopped running and grabbed her knees in exhaustion. “That was _terrible_.” 

“The worst,” Hrafnhar agreed. “Let’s get to the speeder and turn these into Medle. Who will probably try to kill us. Just be ready for that.” 

Mako snorted. “Because today hasn’t been crazy enough.” 

“Right?” 

* * *

Medle did, in fact try to kill them. Hrafnhar pushed Mako to the ground and then swept out with her legs, knocking Medle to the ground and pouncing on him, sending them both rolling into the desk. 

She jerked him over her while his goons fired, using his body to absorb the fire. Mako took out one goon on her own and Hrafnhar kicked Medle’s corpse at the other, snatching her blaster up and shooting the man in the throat. 

“You hit?” she asked, looking over at where Mako was grabbing her arm. 

“Just a burn,” Mako muttered. “Hurts a lot but I’ll live.” 

“What a trooper.” Hrafnhar pulled some kolto from a pocket and stuck Mako with it. “Let’s get back to Crysta.” She took the writ off Medle’s corpse, pleased that he had least gone through the motions of paying her. 

They headed back to Crysta on the speeder, Mako’s cheek pressed between Hrafnhar’s shoulder-blades. 

Hrafnhar could get used to this, having someone watching her back. Mako was sweet, clever and good-natured. The later might be a problem in the long run, but for the present it was fairly harmless. Splitting bounties fifty-fifty was a pain in the ass, but having someone else doing the minuta of cracking data and sifting through information was probably worth it. 

At the very least, she needed the support through the Great Hunt and Mako wanted, needed, a shot at Tarro Blood. 

They could make it work. 

Crysta looked like Hrafnhar had brought her an early Life Day present when they entered the room. Hrafnhar handed over the slip and Crysta’s grin grew about two sizes. “You’re _alive_! Some Mandalorian big shot named Tarro Blood said you were dead. They’re about to start the melee without you.” 

“I should get my tight blue butt in there then.” 

Crysta pointed. 

“Wait here,” Hrafnhar told Mako. “Back in two shakes.” 

She headed into the room where the melee was and grinned at the huntmaster’s second in command. “Sorry I’m late.” 

“Huntmaster, do us the honor?” 

<< Today, many hunters earn glory in death and defeat. One hunter earns eternal glory in victory. Good hunting to all. >>

The woman to Hrafnhar’s left, a mirialan, cocked an eyebrow. “We all heard tales of your exploits, hunter. Perhaps I’ll turn them into a song to commemorate your death.” 

“Perhaps I’ll use your ass as a hat,” Hrafnhar mused. “Green is _definitely_ my color.” 

The huntmaster’s assistant called the melee to start and Hrafnhar juked the side so the green woman’s first shot missed. She darted forward and grabbed the woman by the neck, twisting her to use her as a shield and popping her once in the head for good measure. From behind her meat shield, Hrafnhar took aim at the other hunters, most of whom were focused on people who were not her. She made excellent use of cover and closing, at one point repeating her trick where she blinded someone with the S86k to keep them from properly closing on her.

When the dust settled Hrafnhar dropped the corpse and sheathed her blaster so she could pop her fingers. 

“The melee is over!” the assistant shouted. “One hunter remains.” 

Hrafnhar waved at the crowd, her blood singing. 

She followed the huntmaster’s assistant off to the side and accepted the bottle of water he handed her. “Quite a show you put on. Blasted fun to watch. How do you feel, hunter?” 

“Ten out of ten would compete again,” she grinned. “I feel _great_.” 

“Enjoy it. Things only get harder from here.” 

He lead her to where the huntmaster was waiting. The wookie looked at her fondly and held his arms up to honor her. << Let the hunter stand before me. She is honored beyond all common hunters. Let it be know that—”

“This is simply ridiculous.” Tarro Blood had a voice that stood out. Hrafnhar turned, hand straying to her blaster. “I mean, really—this needs to stop _right now_.” 

“Nice to see you, babe. Did you catch my big fight?” Hrafnhar said icily. 

“I must object to this farce. That… thing… does not deserve to enter the Great Hunt.” 

Hrafnhar was getting _really sick_ of being called a thing. 

“Her credentials are a lie fabricated by her little gutter rat of a sidekick. She deserves no honors.” 

“We know this hunter’s history, Blood,” the huntmaster’s assistant sounded more _bored_ than anything. “The Huntmaster has ruled.” 

“You fools!” Blood crooned. “This is a place of _honor_ , a competition of _elites_. Mandalore will hear of this.” 

Hrafnhar cocked an eyebrow. Whatever she’d done to irk him she’d done impressively well. She almost wondered what it was. 

“I hear kolto works on period cramps. You might want to give it a try.” 

“Enough!” shouted Blood. He snarled at Hrafnhar. “Before this Great Hunt is over, I will have your _skull_ in my hands!” 

“There are easier ways to get and give head.”

Tarro Blood snarled and left. 

The assistant huntmaster just shook his head. “The Great Hunt just got way more interesting. Sorry to interrupt, Huntmaster. Please continue.” 

Hrafnhar turned and the wookie lifted his arms again. 

<< The Great Hunt proves talent, resolve. Mandalore calls it to bring him the most skilled hunter in the galaxy. Each hunter will hunt the other’s prey, then each hunter hunts the other. At the end, there is no prey and only one hunter. >>

“You get all that, Hunter?” The assistant asked. 

Hrafnhar nodded. “I get a target, take it out and then take out whoever got the same target?” 

“Exactly.” 

<< Today you are truly the hunter, and all else is your prey. Welcome to the Great Hunt. >>

“Your handler Crysta will fill you in on the rest of the details. She’s waiting for you.” 

“Thanks.” Hrafnhar nodded and headed back to the room where Crysta and Mako were waiting. She grinned as Mako deflated with relief. “You didn’t think I was done for?” She cocked an eyebrow. “Get real.” She turned her attention Crysta. “They said you’d fill me in on the details.” 

Crysta beamed. “The other handlers are all bug-eyed jealous you won.” 

There was _definitely_ money on the line. 

“Now on to the Great Hunt. I expect you want to hear about your targets.” 

“If you’ve got the time, I could go for that,” Hrafnhar’s face was starting to hurt from smiling so much. She felt better than she could ever remember feeling. 

“Here’s how it’s gonna work: First, you’re getting a starship.” 

“Sweet.” 

“It ain’t gonna be _quite_ that easy,” Crysta said with a little knowing smirk. “We’ll talk about it in a second. On your ship’s computer you’ll access two holorecordings, both with specific details on who and where you hunt.” She waited for Hrafnhar to nod before continuing. “Each target will have another hunter assigned to it. You have to locate that rival and take ‘em out too.” 

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and Tarro Blood will be our first target.” 

“That’d be fun,” Hrafnhar agreed with a nod. “He threatened to take my skull a little while earlier, wish you’d been there to see it.” 

“Now, about your ship.” Crysta’s little smile sharped. “There’s a tradition for new hunters: you gotta steal one for yourself.” 

Hrafnhar’s eyes lit up. It sounded dangerous. It sounded _fun_. “No shit.” 

“No shit,” Crysta confirmed. “Now let’s find you that perfect ship, yeah?” She produced her datapad and scrolled. “Gotcha. I know one that belongs to one of them so-called ‘importer’ types. Fast, smooth, and roomy. I’ll pull together your holorecordings for the Great Hunt targets and transmit them when you hit space. Meantime, head to the spaceport. Get past whatever guards are around, steal your ship and hit the hyperlanes.” 

“And we’re off,” Hrafnhar grinned at Mako, who grinned back. 

“Your first round of targets are on Balmorra and Nar Shaddaa. Good luck to ya, hunter.” 

Hrafnhar led the way out of the Mandalorian enclave. Mako folded herself onto the back of the speeder and they took off to the space port. 

Hrafnhar found the hangar and waited for Mako to slice through security while she covered her. They entered the hangar and Hrafnhar got her first sight of the ship she was definitely naming _The Varactyl’s Nipples_ on account of how truly ugly it was. From stem to stern it was a hideous army green and shaped like a cancerous bantha. She fell in love _immediately_ with the hideous craft and couldn’t wait to steal it. 

She wondered what Mako would think of the name. Hopefully she’d get a kick out of it, but really, who cared. 

She headed up to the observation deck and directly into the line of fire where people were waiting for her. Someone had called security. Hrafnhar let her hand dangle down by her blaster. 

“All right, you disgusting pile of puke. Drop your weapon and kiss the floor. This is _one_ starship that’s not getting stolen on my watch. You hear me, scum?” 

“You might have to speak up.” 

“You filthy, little offworld virus. I’ve had three ships stolen this year by the Mandalorians and their unwashed cohorts.”

“I’m not the one who needs to douche.” Hrafnhar scowled. 

“Of course, not all Mandalorians are bad. Tarro Blood was nice enough to tell me about this little tradition of yours.” 

Hrafnhar’s scowl deepened. It was one thing that Tarro Blood kept getting in _her_ way, but it was somehow worse that he’d sold out the other Mandalorians. That was just _low_. 

“I’m really looking forward to shooting that man,” she sighed, fingers twitching for her blaster. She grabbed it and fired, killing the commander while Mako shot one of his buddies. Hrafnhar dealt with the last guy and gestured to the console for Mako to lower the security door. 

“At least I’m getting plenty of practice with the blaster,” Mako mumbled. 

“You’re not an awful shot.” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

The door opened and the pair made their way down to the _Varactyl_ , blasting through the workers who weren’t smart enough to get out of the way. Hrafnhar stood guard while Mako rewired the door and then took point to burst inside, blasters blazing. 

The ship was deserted and Hrafnhar threw herself into the pilot’s seat and piloted them out of the spaceport and away from Dromund Kaas. She laughed as they hit space. “Wew!” She threw her head back. “What a _rush!_ ” 

Mako flopped into the co-pilot’s seat, shaking her head in disbelief. “Rules or no rules, Tarro Blood dies the next time we see him! Right?” 

Hrafnhar nodded. “Next time I see him I will just _assume_ he’s the rival hunter I’m up against.” 

“Good.” Mako curled her knees to her chest and rested her forehead on them. “Ugh. I hate this. I don’t want to feel this way about _anyone_ but I just… I want to make him pay!” 

“He took something important from you. Hating him’s the right thing to do.” 

“Yeah?” Mako sighed and let her knees drop. “I’d be happy going my whole life without knowing when those times were. We’d better get moving. We’ve got a Great Hunt to win, right?” 

“Yep.” Hrafnhar grinned. “Pick a target kiddo. Nar Shaddaa or Balmorra?” 

“Never been to Balmorra before,” Mako mused. “But I know people on Nar Shaddaa.” 

“Let’s broaden those horizons, shall we?” Hrafnhar laid in a course for Balmorra. “While the autopilot’s got that under control we should pick rooms. I get the big one.” 

Mako snorted. “Sure boss.” 

Hrafnhar nodded and set to fixing the ship’s registration. _The Varactyl’s Nipples_ was on its maiden flight.


	3. Get Your Feet Wet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar visits Beautiful Balmorra and Mako asserts herself as the party conscience

“So.” Mako leaned against the door to Hrafnhar’s room. “This is pretty priceless. There’s a _ton_ of buzz on the ‘net about _someone_ breaking into Fa’athra’s place.” She grinned. “Fa’athra has been throwing credits around trying to find out who did it. No takers.” 

Hrafnhar rolled off her belly to sitting on the side of the mattress and chuckled. 

“Nem’ro is paying them to keep quiet.” Mako continued. ”He’s having _way_ too much fun watching Fa’athra suffer.” 

“That’s hilarious,” Hrafnhar observed. “Handy that you can keep an eye on things like that.” 

“You know,” Mako’s face fell a little, “Braden used to say I was unique for having this HoloNet link. But I’ve no clue how I got it.” She shrugged. “I’ve had this implant forever. Parents must have had me teched-out as a baby. Who does that?” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “No idea, paranoid wack-jobs?” 

“Braden was always encouraging me to look for my past. I figured, street-kid from Nar Shaddaa, what’s to know? Now…” she shook her head. “Gotta admit, he was right. Something weird there.” 

“If you wanna know, you should look into it. Never know if it’s gonna impact you in the future.” 

“Thanks.” Mako tried for a smile and missed by inches. “I mean it.” 

Hrafnhar stood up and clapped Mako on the shoulder. “Keep your head, kid. We’re almost to Balmorra.” 

“You’re not _that_ much older than I am.” Mako stuck her tongue out. “You might not be _any_ older than I am.” 

“Chiss hit maturity by age ten, I am _so much_ older than you,” Hrafnhar teased back. “How old _are you_ , anyway? Humans all look the same to me.” It wasn’t _entirely_ true.

“Eighteen.” 

“You’ve got a year on me, so it’s either “grandma” or “kiddo”, your pick.” 

Mako wrinkled her nose. “Guess I’ll stick with kiddo.” 

“Clever girl.” 

Hrafnhar slid back into the pilot’s seat and prepared for the descent to Balmorra. Balmorra was an _unpleasant_ planet. Currently it was an active warzone with a resistance trying to throw the Empire offworld. In general it was swarming with giant bug things called colicoids which were _not_ known for their cuddly demeanors. 

Hrafnhar had done jobs on Balmorra before and she ubiquitously hated it. Using the intercom she summon Mako to the holoterminal for their first check in with Crysta. 

“Welcome to Balmorra, Hrafnhar,” Crysta said cheerily. “Your target is the right impressive Admiral Ivernus, they call him ‘Admiral Untouchable’. Spends all his time on a fancy flagship surrounded by armed soldiers.” Crysta shrugged. “Can’t kill what you can’t touch, hon. You gotta lure Admiral Ivernus off his flyin’ fortress and down to Balmorra. To make things even more interestin’, no friendly contacts here. You gotta figure this out yourself.” She winked. “And don’t forget, the job ain’t done ‘til you’re the only hunter left standin’. Good luck!” Crysta hung up.

“I make my own luck.” Hrafnhar told the empty space, a thin smile on her mouth. 

“That’s what I like most about you.” Mako smiled and then immediately got to work on Ivernus. “He’s a war hero, all right. Actually won some battles against the Mandalorians. Wonder if that’s how he got on the list.” 

“Would make sense.” 

“Hmm. This is interesting. Turns out, one of the admiral’s toadies is in the market for a bounty hunter.” 

“Nice, got a name?”

“The job listing contact is Lieutenant Major Pirrell. And get this—” Mako grinned and read off, “ _discretion is of the utmost importance_. Whatever this is, Pirrell wants it secret.”

“That’s my girl,” Hrafnhar praised. “Almost a shame we’re not secret lesbians like Crysta thinks.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Mako rolled her eyes. “Let’s go visit the Lieutenant Major in Sobrik, shall we?” 

“I’ll lay in a course.” Hrafnhar returned to the cockpit and punched in the coordinates. 

And _The Varactyl’s Nipples_ made landfall. 

Hrafnhar and Mako exited the ship and ran right into a pair of humans who looked _very_ annoyed with them. 

“You there!” the man shouted. “Bounty hunter! We want a word with you.” 

Hrafnhar cocked an eyebrow. “Should I have any fucking idea who you are?” 

“I’m Vorr. This is my sister Vye.”

“We’ve come to collect a debt from you,” Vye said. “And we expect payment in full. We Corellians are _very_ particular about our debts.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“You killed our brother Vexx, you pile of scum! You got anything to say for yourself?” 

“It was a job.” 

“He was that Corellian bank robber on Hutta, right?” Mako raised an eyebrow. “The fast-draw guy.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. 

“You couldn’t take him in a stand-up fight, so you shot him in the back!” insisted Vye. “Now you’re gonna pay the price.” 

Hrafnhar, honestly, couldn’t remember how the fight had gone. She might have shot him in the back. She didn’t _usually_ shoot people in the back, too hard to ID them that way, but she might have. 

“The name Tarro Blood ring a bell?” challenged Vorr. “He told us how you slaughtered Vexx and then killed the old man, Braden, when he discovered your crime!” 

Hrafnhar’s expression settled into a deep scowl. Tarro was trying to frame her for _Braden’s_ death. That was a step too far. 

“Braden…” Mako shook her head. “I can’t believe even Tarro would stoop that low!” 

“Tarro’s a liar and a cheat,” Hrafnhar said. “And I suggest you back down before you get killed over a stupid lie.”

“Hang on, Vye.” Vorr took his sister by the arm. “What if the bounty hunter’s telling the truth?” 

“You’d take the word of this mongrel who killed our brother?” 

“No, but I’m not sure I trust Tarro Blood, either. What if we’re being used?” 

“The guy’s a user. It’s what he does.” Hrafnhar’s hand dropped down near her blaster. “There’s a trail of bodies between me and Tarro Blood, you wanna get added to it?” 

“Listen to how smug she is! She killed Vexx, there’s no doubt about it!” 

“What if he wasn’t shot in the back? If this bounty hunter killed Vexx in a fair fight, what chance do we have?”

“That’s a very good question,” Hrafnhar’s fingers twitched. “Are you really eager to find out?” 

“This isn’t worth it Vye, not anymore. I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Let’s go.” 

“But what about Vexx? We made a promise!” 

“Our brother’s dead. Getting ourselves killed won’t change that. Come on.” 

Hrafnhar watched the pair depart and saw them off with a small wave. She looked at Mako and shrugged. “That was almost _very_ exciting.” 

“You have a way with people.” 

“Don’t I just?” Hrafnhar grinned. “Come on.” 

Sobrik was an Imperial military base to its core. Very square, loaded with guards and turrets. The cantina would be a bright spot, but only because the men and women were desperate for something that wasn’t monochrome. 

Regrettably, there was no time to visit the cantina. The presence of another hunter on Balmorra put Hrafnhar and Mako on a time crunch. They had to find their target _and_ the other hunter before the other hunter found either. 

It was _exciting_ though. Hrafnhar felt pumped. This was just another moment to prove she was the best and she was living for it. She parked the speeder outside the Lieutenant Major’s office and headed in with Mako at her heels. 

A droid met them at the inner door. “Welcome to the office of Lieutenant Major Pirrell. I am ODX-9. How may I be of assistance.” 

“I’ve got business with your boss,” Hrafnhar said, adopting a lazy, slouching posture. 

“I’m terribly sorry, but the lieutenant major is in a meeting and cannot be disturbed. If I may inquire, with whom do I have the pleasure of speaking.” 

“Hrafnhar. He summoned and,” she clicked her tongue. “Here I am.” 

“My sincerest apologies, but the lieutenant major is currently in a meeting and cannot be disturbed,” reiterated the droid. Hrafnhar scowled at it. “Thank you for visiting Lieutenant Major Pirrell’s office. Have a pleasant day.” 

“He’ll make time, trust me.” Hrafnhar said, pulling her blaster. “The comm. Now.” 

“Oh! Yes! Yes! Right away!” 

ODX-9 busied itself with the holo on the wall and a moment later appeared the holo of a grumpy looking man who had clearly been interrupted during a meeting, but given the state of his trousers, Hrafnhar was willing to bet it wasn’t a business meeting. 

Unless the Imps were getting _real_ loose with the regs these days.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, Lieutenant Major—”

“The Republic had better be _bombing the planet_ , you worthless piece of junk,” snapped the Lieutenant Major. Hrafnhar snickered a little and then cleared the expression off her face. 

“Sir, forgive me!” cried the distressed droid. “I had no choice! There’s someone here—”

“I don’t care _who’s_ out there, you scrap pile! I told you I was not to be disturbed!” 

“I’m a master of discretion,” Hrafnhar said. “I seem to recall that being of _utmost importance_.” 

Understanding dawned over Pirrell’s face. 

“Sir,” said the droid. “Shall I call security?” 

“No!” Pirrell said quickly. “No, that’s not necessary. Send our guest in right away. _This time_ , make sure we are not disturbed for _any reason_.” Pirrell narrowed his eyes at the droid. “ _Any. Reason_. Understood?” 

“Perfectly sir! I will unlock the door right now.” 

Mako leaned into Hrafnhar as the door opened. “Pirrell is our only connection to Admiral Ivernus, so let’s make the lieutenant major a _very_ satisfied customer.” 

“Satisfaction guaranteed.” Hrafnhar said with a grin as the door opened. She fixed that smile on the Lieutenant Major, an average size human male and took stock of his very pretty cathar companion. 

At least she hadn’t ruined a man’s one man good time review. He had company.

The door closed behind her and Mako as they entered the room and Pirrell still had his hand on the ass of the cathar woman. Hrafnhar cocked an eyebrow and hoped he hadn’t ordered other… entertainment because she would hate to disappoint him. 

Well, she wouldn’t hate it _that much_. 

“My apologies for the poor welcome. I never informed that idiot droid I was hiring a bounty hunter.” 

Whew. 

“I’m assistant to the naval attache of the governor of Balmorra,” Pirrell explained. “I specialize in intelligence gathering.”

“Master is wise and powerful,” chimed the cathar with a bit of a purr in her voice. 

Pirrell gave her ass a squeeze. “This is Murghir, an amusing gift from a friend on Dromund Kaas. What she lacks in intelligence she makes up for in entertainment value.” He withdrew his hand and gestured a small distance away. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?” 

Hrafnhar followed him over to a corner, leaving Mako with Murghir. 

“My superior, Colonel Sartius, is an incompetent fool,” he said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I toil in the shadow, though his job should rightfully be mine.”

Hrafnhar nodded sympathetically. “You deserve it.” she said, admittedly not _great_ at flattery. 

“Precisely! Even you can see it.” 

Luckily, Hrafnhar thought, this guy was a total blowhard. 

“But what’s most infuriating is that Colonel Sartius has the full confidence of Admiral Ivernus. Colonel Sartius remains in power because he excels in hiding his gross incompetence from the admiral. But we’re going to tear down that facade.” 

“So the Admiral relies on you, the man who actually does the work.” Flattery was _hard_. _But_ Ivernus would have to come planetside to promote Pirrell and that was the in Hrafnhar needed. 

“We’re going to work well together,” Pirrell gave a small nod. “I want you to create _problems_ for Colonel Sartius. Problems I’m confident he can’t deal with. Your missions will involve plenty of mayhem and destruction, and the pay is quite generous. Interested?” 

“The words _generous pay_ do wonders for my interest. I’m in.” 

“Excellent, we speak the same language then.” He lead her over to the command console. “Your first target is the Okara Droid Factory. Before the Empire invaded Balmorra, we sabotaged the facility, turning the droids into crazed killing machines. Colonel Sartius is very close to deciphering the facility’s control codes. If he does, it will bring the droids _fully_ under the Empire’s control. The Colonel cannot be allowed such a victory. I sent a data slicer to enter a code-scrambling virus into the facility’s computer system.” 

Hrafnhar couldn’t help but feel that Pirrell was an exceedingly _petty_ individual, putting his own goals above the gains of his whole fucking allegiance system. The Empire was never going to get anywhere if everyone kept tripping over each other’s dicks like this. 

Not that it was her problem. She had no such allegiances for this very reason and it ensured her a hefty payday. 

Still, it was petty. 

“So what do you need me for?” She raised an eyebrow. 

“The security team escorting the slicer was killed by the facility’s droids. Now, the slicer is trapped inside.” Pirrell pulled a face like something stank. “The slicer refuses to input the virus until I send a rescue team. I’m sending you.” 

Wouldn’t be the first rescue Hrafnhar had run, but something about the look on Pirrell’s face made her doubt that it was going to be that cut and dry. 

“The slicer’s name is Zalia. Force her to input the virus into the system, then eliminate her. No loose ends.” He straightened, business-like. “We’ll have more business to discuss when you return.” 

Mako wasn’t going to like this. 

* * *

Mako did _not_ like this, and she voiced her opinions loudly on the back of the speeder as Hrafnhar drove to the Okara Droid Factory. 

“You’re just going to _kill_ her?” Mako said incredulously for the third time. 

Hrafnhar sighed. “That’s what I’m being paid to do Mako, yeah.” 

“You can’t think of someway out of it?” 

“Why _would_ I?” Hrafnhar grumbled. “It’s not the first time I’ve done similar.” 

“Yeah but—”

“But _what_ , Mako?” 

“It doesn’t seem _right_.” 

They parked the speeder outside the facility and Hrafnhar shrugged. “Lots of this job feels wrong if you think about it too hard. The trick is to stop thinking so much and just enjoy the ride. I don’t get choosy with my workload.” 

“Well maybe you should.” Mako pulled her blaster and followed Hrafnhar inside. 

They stuck close together as they advance through the droid factory, Hrafnhar taking advantage of the fact they they were just droids to play with the slender missiles she packed. There were _lots_ of droids, but, being mindless killing machines, they weren’t overly difficult to work their way around and they didn’t call for help when Hrafnhar started blasting them. 

Near the bowels of the factory they found the dead escort team and a little further on, the slicer. Zalia was a skinny human female a few years older than Mako. 

Hrafnhar gave her a smile. “You’re Zalia, right? Pirrell’s slicer?” 

“Oh thank the stars.” Zalia unfurled from behind the console she’d been cowering behind. “Don’t know how much longer I could’ve held out. My reconnaissance team was—”

“Pirrell told me everything,” Hrafnhar held up a hand to stem the tide of bullshit about to bubble forth. “You need to upload the damn virus.” 

“I already told Pirrell why I can’t!” protested Zalia. “If I put the virus in the computer’s control program, it’ll trigger alarms. Those droids will swarm us.” 

“I can handle the droids,” Hrafnhar crossed her arms cockily over her chest and rocked on the balls of her feet. “But if you don’t do what you were told to, I have permission to be… persuasive.” 

She could _feel_ Mako glaring at her.

“Please listen! Inputting the virus is _suicide_! We won’t last five seconds.” 

Mako sighed. “We’ve gotten out of way worse situations. We’ll be fine.” 

“You’re totally set on this, aren’t you?” Zalia looked at Hrafnhar, who just gave a short nod. “Okay.” Zalia swallowed hard and moved around the console to upload the virus. Hrafnhar tensed for the alarms and when they didn’t come realized that they’d be silent because only droids needed them. She rolled her shoulders and when the first wave of tin men ran into the room let loose a torrent of blaster and missile fire, making scant use of her jetpack to gain the aerial advantage. 

Mako defended Zalia with zeal which was a bit of a pity because if the droids got the slicer, Hrafnhar wouldn’t have to worry about fighting with Mako about it. 

“I can’t believe we’re still alive,” Zalia said, relieved. 

Hrafnhar frowned. Now she was _thinking_ about it. Jobs like this were easier when she wasn’t forced to _think_ about them. 

“I’m pretty fucking amazing,” Hrafnhar praised herself. 

“You _are_ ,” Zalia agreed with a series of quick nods. “I’ve never seen anything like that. I’m bailing out of her before more droids show up. Running away never felt so good!” 

Hrafnhar pulled her blaster. “Actually the other half of the job stipulated no loose ends. That means you, cutie.” 

“ _Hrafnhar_ ,” Mako complained. 

“Oh no,” Zalia went white. “Please, please don’t kill me.” She held her hands up, pleading for her life. “I swear I’ll go straight! I’ll never slice another computer! Just let me go!” 

“A job is a job,” Hrafnhar said evenly. 

“ _Hrafnhar,”_ Mako said more sternly. 

“I have a family to take care of, parents who depend on me! I’m begging you.” Zalia started to weep. 

“Pirrell’s an idiot anyway,” Mako said. “He’d never know if you let her go.” 

Hrafnhar groaned and raised her blaster away from Zalia. She huffed. “I have to _live_ with Mako. Move your ass and if you breathe a word of this job to _anyone_ I will be forced to hunt you down to save my reputation.” 

Zalia took off at a run and Hrafnhar frowned at Mako’s smile. 

“I hate you,” she complained. 

“You did the right thing.” 

“I hate that _too_.” She shook her head and holstered her blaster. “Let’s get back to Pirrell before you summon singing birds or whatever you goody-goodies are fucking capable of.” 

* * *

Mako was perversely cheery as they returned to Sobrik, enough so that Hrafnhar made her wait _outside_ in case she gave the game away to Pirrell. He might have been an idiot, but he wasn’t fucking blind. 

“Welcome back,” he said. “I take it everything went well, and the Okara Droid Factory is… running smoothly. What about Zalia? I trust that slicer won’t be a problem.” 

“Those droids killed a _lot_ of people,” Hrafnhar said evenly. “Poor girl never stood a chance.” 

“The admiral will soon see my worth,” Pirrell announced with a grin. 

“Master is so _wise_ ,” purred Murghir. 

“Remain silent, my pet, or I shall discipline you again,” Pirrell chided, a bit of a purr in his own voice that made Hrafnhar’s skin crawl. “And you don’t want that, do you?” 

People were entitled to their kinks but Hrafnhar preferred when they weren’t on display and when both parties were actively interested. Something in the way Murghir held herself made Hrafnhar doubt her willingness to the role. 

“Here is your payment for taking care of that slicer, my friend. Excellent work.” 

At least Hrafnhar was being paid. She liked being paid. 

“Your next assignment concerns the local fauna,” Pirrell said. Hrafnhar bit back a groan. “Colonel Sartius is responsible for keeping our citizenry safe from the deadly colicoids infesting this planet.” 

This was going to be _fun_. Also, most likely, monumentally fucking stupid if it involved the fucking colicoids. 

“Alright.” She nodded. 

“After the Empire’s invasion, the Balmorrans released mutated colicoids into the wilderness. The creatures successfully bred and have become a plague on the population. The colicoids have become almost docile in recent months. Attacks are down all across the planet.” 

This should have been a _good thing_ , but Hrafnhar held her tongue and waited for Pirrell to finish his little tirade. 

“That makes Colonel Sartius look like he’s got this plague under control. But we know better, don’t we?”

The man was insane, but he was paying and he was Hrafnhar’s only lead to Ivernus.

“So you want to piss them off again?” Hrafnhar said, privately adding _because you’re stupid_ to the end of her sentence. 

“Precisely! The only thing to do with docile colicoids is make them hostile. The last time they attacked in force was when a survey team accidentally encountered a colicoid queen. It took five squads to kill her.” 

Hrafnhar was grateful she couldn’t actually roll her eyes because she _desperately_ wanted to. This was possibly the most suicidally dangerous thing she’d ever done. 

But she had to be willing to do _anything_ if she wanted to win the Great Hunt. And she wanted to win. 

Pirrell handed her a tube. “Place this sonic device near the nest entrance. It will confuse and anger the colicoids. Kill any drones and warriors you see. Eventually, the queen will reveal herself. The sonic device will disorient her, leveling the playing field so you get a fair shot. Be fast and careful.” 

“Roger that,” Hrafnhar tucked the device into a pocket. “Can it wait til morning, charging the colicoid dens at dusk seems like a _phenomenally_ fucking stupid idea.” 

Pirrell nodded and Hrafnhar left, collecting Mako on the way out and making her way to the cantina to secure a room for the night. 

“So what’s our next job?” Mako asked. 

Hrafnhar slid into the bar and ordered a pair of whiskeys. She sipped hers. “Pissing off the colicoids, we’ll do it in the morning.” 

Mako took a small sip of her whiskey. Hrafnhar expected her to choke on it, but Mako sipped like a pro. 

“Wonder where the other bounty hunter is,” Mako said, “Makes me nervous that we haven’t seen anything of them yet.” 

“They might try and strike tonight. We’ll sleep in shifts.” 

“You’re not serious.” 

“I am, actually.” Hrafnhar finished her drink and paid. “We turn in now and we’ll both get plenty of sleep regardless.” 

In the room, Hrafnhar bolted the door and flopped onto the mattress. “Do you want first or second shift.” 

“First,” Mako said, “I’m way to wired to sleep now.” 

“Wired,” Hrafnhar chuckled. “Yeah you are.” 

Mako stuck her tongue out. “Go to _bed_ Hrafnhar.” 

* * *

The night was uneventful. Whatever the other bounty hunter was doing clearly had them preoccupied. Refreshed for the day ahead, Mako and Hrafnhar headed out to the wilds of Balmorra to piss off a large and dangerous insect. 

Despite her reservations about the insanity of it all, Hrafnhar had to admit to a certain amount of excitement. Colicoids were big and mean, unquestioningly the most dangerous thing on Balmorra and she was going to go up against one of the biggest and baddest of the motherfuckers. She _liked_ taking down prey that was bigger than she was. Dangerous animals, sith lords, these things didn’t pay the bills as much as smaller head-hunting bounties but there was a thrill in them that couldn’t be matched. 

She just had to keep Mako safe throughout, but that was just another level of challenge. 

They made their way to the nest and Hrafnhar found a good corridor to bottleneck the bugs. She set the device down, turned it on, and waited. The first wave of drones and warriors popped out of the ground like daisies, unsteady on their long spindly legs and Hrafnhar and Mako cut them down, saving the big guns for the queen when she inevitably showed up. The ichor that spilled from the insects was thick and foul, soaking into the dirt to create a noxious mud that Hrafnhar tromped through without a care, stepping on corpses to gain the advantage of height over her victims. 

The queen herself was massive, bursting in from further down the base-turned-nest with a hideous screech. Hrafnhar dodged a swipe of her massive hooked forearms and fired directly into her armored underbelly with everything she had. When the beast went down a thrill rolled through Hrafnhar’s chest and stomach. She let out a triumphant whoop and grinned at Mako, who predictably looked at her like she was out of her mind. 

“We should get back to Pirrell,” Mako said, eyeing the body at Hrafnhar’s feet with distrust. 

Hrafnhar nodded and broke off one of the huge hooks that adorned the queen’s foreleg. “Proof,” she said idly. “And if he doesn’t want it, I could use the trophy.” 

“You’re so _weird_ ,” Mako observed. 

Hrafnhar just grinned and headed back to the speeder, trophy in her pocket. 

“You’re alive! Magnificent!” Pirrell said when she reappeared in his office. “Frantic reports of colicoid attacks are pouring in from all over the planet. I’ve included a generous bonus with your payment. Colonel Satrius is going absolutely _insane_.” He let out a triumphant laugh. “Once Sartius is removed from his position, Admiral Ivernus will _certainly_ consider my application for a promotion. It’s a flawless plan, don’t you agree?” 

Hrafnhar frowned. She needed Ivernus _now_ , not in six months when he got through the promotion applications. She was going to have to push things a little. Shit. 

“That’s it?” Hrafnhar cocked an eyebrow. “You’re just going to _wait_ after all the hard work you’ve done?” 

“Well… yes. I’ve kept it simple, so as not to upset the admiral.” Pirrell cleared his throat, every inch the weak-willed simpleton she had hoped. “How… how do _you_ think I should approach the admiral.” 

Hrafnhar’s eyes strayed over to Murghir where she was fawning and she frowned a little more deeply. The cathar was paying _far_ too much attention for a simple-minded sex slave. Murghir was working an angle but Hrafnhar wasn’t sure what and she couldn’t act and upset Pirrell this close to the endgame. 

“Get him down here,” Hrafnhar advised. “Show him you’re the man for the job.” 

“Interesting,” Pirrell said, stroking his weak mustache as he considered it. “Don’t simply offer my name up to the admiral as _a_ choice to replace Colonel Sartius; make myself _the_ choice.” 

Hrafnhar nodded, a wicked smile on her mouth. She was _close_. 

“If things got bad enough here, Admiral Ivernus would want to conduct another inspection. That could be my opportunity to meet and impress him.” 

Hrafnhar nodded again. 

“I need one final, brilliant manuever to arrange my face-to-face meeting with Admiral Ivernus,” he said, as though it had been his plan all along. “And I know just what to do. Reports indicate that the Republic forces that stayed on Balmorra after we invaded are training resistance fighters at the Balmorran Arms Factory.” 

“The Republic is just… doing that? And no one’s stopping them?” 

Had someone castrated the _entire_ Imperial Navy with rusty scissors? 

“There are _complications_ because of their dug-in position and because, of course, of the colonel’s complete incompetence.” Pirrell cleared his throat. “The colonel has learned of a secret rendezvous between the resistance leaders and several offworld allies. His spies planted a homing beacon aboard the resistance leaders’ command shuttle.” He pointed at Hrafnhar. “You’re going to remove that beacon.” 

Hrafnhar considered that it was a good thing she didn’t have any political affiliations because this would definitely extra have been treason. Instead she just nodded. “Sounds like fun.” 

“The beacon must remain intact,” Pirrell instructed. “You will move the beacon from the shuttle to a garbage transport. The colonel will swoop in with his warships to find nothing but garbage-sifting ugnaughts.” He smiled. “The shuttle is in the spaceport at the fortified Balmorran Arms Factory. Be cautious.” He wrapped an arm around Murghir and lead her away. 

Hrafnhar frowned after them. 

It couldn’t be… 

And _yet_. 

Outside she confided her suspicions to Mako. “There’s something up with Murghir,” she said in a low voice as they mounted up the speeders. “I don’t know what.” 

“Think she’s the other bounty hunter?” 

“Maybe, or she’s working for the Republic or something equally sketch.” She sighed. “Men like Pirrell operate around their fucking dick. Getting on it is the quickest way to their good side and she’s an alien, he was all to willing to think she’s soft in the head.” 

“What should we do?” 

“Wait to see how it plays out, I just want you watching her in case this whole thing goes south.” 

“I can do that.” 

Hrafnhar turned her head to smile at her partner and then kicked the speeder on, heading for the Balmorran Arms Factory. 

The factory loomed on the other side of an active warzone. Hrafnhar and Mako crept along the edges, avoiding the worst of the fighting until they managed to slip into the factory itself. From there it was a stealth operation, something Hrafnhar was admittedly not great at. She compensated by killing everything that moved and firebombing sentry droids before they could get an alarm off. 

If no one’s around to snitch, it qualifies as being sneaky. 

They made their way through the factory, Mako commenting that it was a damn fortress and Hrafnhar being forced to agree. 

They found the craft and Hrafnhar carefully pried the homing beacon free and then carried it the short distance to the garbage barge and stuck to the side. Kind of a shitty thing to do to the Empire, but, she reminded herself, the job was the job. 

And she didn’t give a shit about the Empire. She just thought it was shitty to betray the side you were on in an attempt to further your own ambitions. 

Getting out of the factory was almost as exciting as getting into it had been, but she and Mako managed to escape and took the speeder they’d left behind back to Sobrik, job well done. 

* * *

Pirrell was beside himself when Hrafnhar and Mako returned to his office. “Success!” He cheered loudly. “I’ve just received word that Colonel Sartius has been placed under arrest. Under arrest! If only I could have been there when Sartius led his men into that garbage transport, weapons drawn! Ha!” 

Hrafnhar nodded, smiling because she’d done a good job and took pride in her work. 

“Murghir _swoons_ in admiration for master,” Murghir crooned. Hrafnhar’s expression sharpened a little. She wouldn’t be comfortable until she knew the cathar’s angle. 

“This is priceless.” Pirrell continued, oblivious to the moment that had passed between the two women. “Admiral Ivernus is already on his way. He wants to meet us at the spaceport. You’ve done me a great service, bounty hunter. Credits feels _insufficient_. How can I better reward you.” 

“I’d actually like to meet this admiral. You never know what powerful men like him need done.” 

Pirrell nodded like it had been his idea. “Yes. How fitting that the individual who helped me achieve my goals be at my side to greet the admiral. Meet me at the spaceport. Your presence as part of the grand entourage I present to Admiral Ivernus will make the occasion truly memorable.”

“Murghir wants to go!” Murghir smooshed her breasts into Pirrell’s side. “Murghir can be part of the occasion.” 

Murghir was _definitely_ the other bounty hunter. 

“Oh, very well.” Pirrell’s hand slipped to Murghir’s ass like a well trained hound to the kennel. He looked back to Hrafnhar. “I’ll see you at the admiral’s docking bay, bounty hunter. Don’t be late. A bright future awaits us.”

“Give me a chance to freshen up and I’ll be right there.” Hrafnhar left the office. Outside she turned to Mako. “When it all goes down, you focus on shooting Murghir.” 

“You think she’s the other hunter?” 

“I’d bet on it. I’m trusting you to bring her down while I focus on the admiral and, realistically, the witnesses.” 

Mako swallowed hard but she nodded. “I can do it.” 

“I know you can,” Hrafnhar said, forcing more confidence into her tone than she actually felt. If nothing else, Mako’s blaster fire would give Murghir something else to focus on. They headed back to their cantina room and freshened up before headed to meet Pirrell and Ivernus at the spaceport. 

Hrafnhar’s blood was singing. Her first Great Hunt bounty was practically in the bag. And she knew where her opponent was (riding Pirrell’s dick like it was going out of style). There were no more surprises, just a little bit more work. 

* * *

Admiral Untouchable himself was the standard human male you got with lifelong Imperial service men. He was flanked by two Imperial troopers and wore an expression not unlike one of a man who hadn’t had a shit in more than a week. He fixed all this bile on Pirrell, who, as the head of intelligence, was responsible for Sartius’s failures as if they were his own. 

“I’ve come all the way here just to see you executed in person,” Ivernus said. 

Pirrell went white. “No! Sir, I can explain. I just—you, bounty hunter! Help the admiral understand! Explain it to him!” 

“Explain what, exactly?” Hrafnhar cocked an eyebrow. 

“You brought some filthy alien bounty hunter with you, Pirrell? What the hell were you thinking?” 

“Thinking is not one of Pirrell’s strengths, Admiral,” Murghir said, stepping around Pirrell. 

“Yeah, it’s hard to do that with no blood left in your head,” Hrafnhar said dryly. 

“What’s this? Another disgusting bit of subhuman scum.” Ivernus was winning all the prizes and Hrafnhar couldn’t wait to shoot him in the head. 

“Murghir,” Pirrell looked a little hurt underneath all the surprise. “What…?” 

“The name’s Murghir, Admiral Ivernus. I’m a bounty hunter on the Great Hunt, and I’m here to kill you.” 

“Ditto,” Hrafnhar said, pulling her blaster. “Not the Murghir part.” 

“Guards, blast them! All of them!” ordered Ivernus.

“No!” shouted Pirrell. “Not me!” He screamed and ran away. Hrafnhar shot one of the guards in the faceplate and dove out of the way, trusting Mako to at least distract Murghir while she dealt with Ivernus. 

The nice thing about lifelong military men was that they didn’t tend to run. Ivernus planted his feet and fired at her like he couldn’t imagine losing. Hrafnhar clicked on her jetpack and rained hell on him and his remaining guard, trusting that Mako would have rolled out of the way. 

When the dust settled, Mako was pale in the face and breathing hard, but she was standing triumphant over Murghir’s corpse and the admiral was dead. Hrafnhar clapped her on the shoulder. “Nice.” 

“Thanks,” Mako said a little hesitantly. “She almost got me a couple of times.”

“But she didn’t,” Hrafnhar grinned. “You bagged your first bounty hunter. I’m proud of you.” 

“You’ve taken out other hunters before?” 

“That’s actually how I got in this game,” Hrafnhar admitted. “Hell, this jetpack? I took it off one. Same with the wrist missile launcher.” 

“How? Why?” 

“Long story, remember the whole ‘we don’t get into my past’ thing? That.” 

Mako nodded. 

Hrafnhar walked over to where Pirrell was cowering behind a trash bin and gave him a cocky grin. “Sorry about your fucktoy, and your boss I guess.”

“Please don’t kill me!” he pleaded. “I beg you! I don’t want to die! I’ll… I’ll transfer a large sum of credits to your account! And I’ll blame the Cathar for everything! Just please don’t kill me! For the love of the Emperor, let me live!” 

Hrafnhar looked at Mako, who gave her a small smile and a little shrug. Hrafnhar sighed and lowered her weapon. “Fine, but only because you used the phrase ‘large amount of credits.’ Now get up.” 

“Oh thank you!” he stammered, rising slowly to his feet. “You’ll find I’m a _valuable_ ally! Yes! You won’t regret this!” 

“Large. Amount. Of Credits.” Hrafnhar repeated. 

Pirrell nodded his understanding and took off at a run. 

“What a crazy hunt.” Mako shook her head and took a small step closer to Hrafnhar. “Looks like we’re done with _beautiful_ Balmoraa. We should get gone while the getting’s still good.” 

Hrafnhar nodded her agreement. “At least we’re already in the spaceport. Let’s load up and get to Nar Shaddaa.” She grinned. “Further fun awaits.” 

* * *

Back aboard _the Varactyl’s_ Hrafnhar took them off world before heading to the holoterminal to call in and report their first success. She leaned back casually, wearing a grin she made no attempt to hide and pressed call. Instead of Crysta she was connected to the assistant huntmaster. 

“I’ve eliminated my targets on Balmorra,” she said, still wearing a cheeky smile. 

“Hold while I confirm,” the assistant huntmaster checked something and nodded. “Looks like things got messy but you made a clean get away. Credit for Admira Ivernus goes to you.” 

Hrafnhar resisted the urge to punch the air victoriously. 

“Keep it up and we’ll know you weren’t just lucky. Lek out.” 

Lek, apparently, disappeared and Hrafnhar turned around and leaned on the holoterminal. She beamed at Mako as she passed. “We’re _good_ at this,” she praised. 

“Yeah,” Mako nodded as she spoke. “We make a good team.” 

“Nar Shaddaa next. Can’t wait to see what’s in store for us.” Hrafnhar took the colicoid hook out of her pocket and went to put it up in her room, a trophy from her first really big animal hunt. She’d have to collect more. 


	4. Dig Another Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar and Mako's adventures take them to Mako's homeworld of Nar Shaddaa.

_The Varactyl’s Nipples_ was a big ship for just two people. It had a tendency to echo if Hrafnhar talked to herself, and that was a little too much like Hoth’s ice caves for her to enjoy it. Coincidentally, she spent much of the flight to Nar Shaddaa in the cockpit with Mako swapping stories (though nothing really personal on her end). Braden had been carting Mako around for years, even since picking her up on Nar Shaddaa as a kid, and the two had had their fair share of adventures. 

Hrafnhar hadn’t known Braden well, but watching Mako talk about him was enough to make her almost regret that. At the very least, it reaffirmed that Mako wouldn’t sleep well until Tarro Blood was six feet under.

And that was a gift Hrafnhar could certainly try to provide. Hell, they were both competitors in the Great Hunt, she would probably _have_ to provide it. Such a little thing to earn the continued support of someone who had already been a pretty big help. 

Eventually the partnership would sour, Hrafnhar was pretty sure that was the fate of all interpersonal relationships, but it was nice while it lasted. Hrafnhar mused over this in the fresher and the best she could come up with was hoping she didn’t have to shoot Mako when things went south. That might actually upset her. 

She left the fresher and headed up to the cockpit where Mako was crunching on some cereal in the co-pilot’s seat. She had a look that could almost be described as _pensive_ on her face and looked up when Hrafnhar flopped into the captain’s seat, braid slapping wetly into the leather. 

“What’s on your mind?” Hrafnhar asked. 

“There a reason you’re not wearing a shirt?” 

“It’s in the wash,” Hrafnhar shrugged. “Besides, there’s nobody here but us ladies and I _know_ you’ve seen a boob before. It’s not like I’m naked.” 

Mako considered this and then shrugged. “Been poking around the holonet. Heard a few things that seem suspicious.” She turned her attention off her bowl and onto Hrafnhar more fully. “A Jedi, two Imperial Colonels and a Hutt came down with bad cases of dead within hours of each other. Had to be Great Hunt Targets.” 

“Hope we’re not falling behind,” Hrafnhar mused. “We don’t really know how many hunters are competing.” She grinned. “You’ll do the old man proud, Mako.”

Mako smiled and rolled her eyes, looking back at her meal. “That’s what I like about you. You’re crazy. Inspiring, but crazy.” 

“I’m also hotter than a type O star and have a sparkling personality.” Hrafnhar beamed. 

Mako laughed. “So, looked up the manufacturer of my implant. Weird stuff.” 

“Oh?” 

“ _Exclusively_ government contractor. Everything on this model is classified.” 

“Must have cost your folks a fucking mint.” 

“Seems that way.” Mako took another bite and chewed slowly, mulling it over. “Whoever my parents were, they got their hands on one mother of a top-secret gadget.”

“And stuck it right in their baby. Fuckin’ bizarre.” 

“Don’t know what it means yet, but I intend to find out.” Mako’s spoon clattered in the bowl and she stood up to take it to the galley. “Also we’re out of milk.” 

“We’ll resup on Nar Shaddaa, _roomie_.” She stretched out. Laundry would be done soon and she would have a fluffy clean shirt by the time they reached Nar Shaddaa and had to call to check in with either Crysta or Lek. 

Hrafnhar felt _cozy_ , itching for her next fight, yeah, but _cozy_ all the same. Maybe this was one of the perks to having a ship to call home. 

* * *

They entered Nar Shaddaa’s airspace and Hrafnhar hit the call button on the holoterminal. She grinned up at the holo as Crysta appeared. 

“Welcome to Nar Shaddaa, hunter—sleaziest place in the galaxy. Your target is the Eidolon, a professional assassin with a right scary reputation,” Crysta said. “Branded himself as the assassin who could kill absolutely anybody. For the right price of course. Spent several years proving it, too. His background is a mystery, but he used to do a lot of work for the Hutt Cartel. I’d suggest looking up Gele’ren, a twi’lek who works for the Cartel. Word is he hates the Eidolon more than just about anybody.” She smiled. “Oh, and when you find your bounty hunter rival, give ‘em my best before you blast ‘em to pieces. Happy hunting.” 

The holoterminal went dark and Mako’s posture sagged, she looked at the floor and shook her head. “Nar Shaddaa. Always knew I’d find my way back here. Just didn’t picture it quite like this.” 

“This is where Braden picked you up, yeah?” 

“Yeah, you know it?” 

“When I won my freedom from that backstory I’m not likely to fill you in on, Nar Shaddaa was the first place I headed.” Hrafnhar smiled. “It’s not home, but it’s familiar.” 

“Crysta mentioned Gele’ren might help us track down the Eidolon. I _remember_ that twi’lek. Used to be a real scummy slaver. Had a bad rep, a real ruthless creep.” 

“You gonna be alright?” 

“I’ll be fine,” Mako assured her. “I think I even remember where he hangs out.” 

“Better and better. Where are we going?”

“The Promenade, I’ll check things out on the way, a lot might have changed while I was away, but that’s always a good first stop.” 

“Let’s hit the Eidolon hard and fast and go shopping,” Hrafnhar grinned. “We’re still out of milk.” 

They left the spaceport and headed for the Promenade. Hrafnhar remembered the first time she’d visited Nar Shaddaa, how she’d been taken in by the glitz and the glitter, the danger and the sleaze. Anything was for sale on Nar Shaddaa, you just had to be able to afford it _and_ know where to look. Her whole life and her name had changed on Nar Shaddaa. 

She still loved the dirty, dangerous little world. 

Mako seemed more nostalgic but less charmed. For her, Nar Shaddaa had been the maw she escaped from, not her first taste of greater galactic culture.

They made their way to the Slippery Slopes cantina, where Gele’ren operated and Hrafnhar took a moment to take in a dancer before Mako tugged on her wrist to get her to keep up. 

It had been a long time since Hrafnhar had fed her _other_ appetites, but Mako was right, now was time for work. They entered a back room in time to watch a fat yellow twi’lek shout at a bunch of armed men that he could feed them all to a rancor. 

A real charmer. 

Hrafnhar cleared her throat to announce her presence and cocked an eyebrow when Gele’ren turned around and took stock of her. “Excuse me? Hey, nobody just walks in here, huh. _Nobody_.” 

Unimpressed with his bluster, Hrafnhar offered a smile. “I’m here to pop a hole in the Eidolon, any interest in that?” 

“The Eidolon? What? You’re fucking with me, right? No,” he laughed. “Tell me you’re kidding.” 

Hrafnhar recocked her eyebrow and the laughter died.

“You’re… you’re not kidding.” 

“Work is one of the _very_ few things I’m usually serious about.” 

“All right, I’ll bite.” He turned to his hired thugs. “Boys, get out of here and get us some refreshments.” When the thugs were gone he looked back at Hrafnhar. “The Eidolon did some work for us, you know. He could kill anybody, anywhere. This guy was unbelievable.” 

“Aw, he sounds like my dream guy,” she wished she could roll her eyes. “Dreamy got a name?” 

“Never met him in person.” Gele’ren shrugged. “When you do that, you die. The Cartel always communicated with him via holo. But _then_ ,” he paused for dramatic effect and Hrafnhar sighed. “At the top of his game,” another pause. “The Eidolon announces he’s getting out of the assassination business.” Gele’ren clapped his hands together. “Opened a security company.” He shook his head as if in disbelief. “Suddenly half the corporations here were clients of Eidolon Securty, and were no longer paying the Hutt Cartel.” 

“That’s rough,” Hrafnhar said dispassionately. 

“Rough isn’t the—”

“Hey, Gele’ren,” they were interrupted by a scrawny teched out human male about Mako’s age. He looked underfed in addition to just being small. “I haven’t finished slicing those casino lugjack machines, but I thought that…” he trailed off, staring at Mako like he’d seen a ghost. 

“Anuli?” Mako said the name softly, her expression gentle. 

“That’s Mako!” Anuli announced, still staring. “Everyone said she was dead! The Rodian brothers grabbed her!” 

“Someone saved me from those antenna heads, Anuli.” Mako looked sad for a moment, remembering Braden. She cleared her throat and shook the sad away. “A good friend. He took me away.” 

“Who’s the kid, Mako?” Hrafnhar asked, Braden had taken Mako away too early for Anuli to have been a fuckbuddy, but there was clearly some connection.

“Anuli and I grew up together on the streets.” Mako smiled. “He’s like my little brother.” 

“That’s cute.” 

“Can we get back to business?” Gele’ren cleared his throat. “Yes?” He looked back at Hrafnhar. “Look, nobody knows how to find the Eidolon. But if you hurt his company, he’ll find you. I’ve seen it before. The Eidolon’s biggest client is the Republic. Eidolon Security supplies those ganks with billions of credits worth of munitions every year.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. 

“Eidolon Security’s got a stockpile of munitions bound for the Republic Army. Crates are in their manufacturing facility in the Corellian Sector.” Gele’ren smiled. “If that facility were to _blow up_ , the Eidolon would owe the Republic billions of credits, which I’m guessing he ain’t got just lying around.”

“I love property damage,” Hrafnhar said with a slow smile. “ _People_ can get complicated, _things_ are just things.” 

“Can’t use thermal detonators,” Anuli pinched his chin in thought. “Too small. Need baradium charges. Like the ones Brel made. Before he blew up.” 

Mako and Hrafnhar _both_ raised an eyebrow. 

“Hang on, hang on.” Gele’ren held his hands up. “Hey, you’re hearing that out of context. Brel blew himself up because he got cocky.” 

“That would _never_ happen to _Hrafnhar_ ,” Mako said out the corner of her mouth. 

Hrafnhar elbowed her in the side but couldn’t hide her smile. 

“These baradium charges are _perfectly safe_ ,” lied Gele’ren. “You got my word.” 

“Well,” Hrafnhar couldn’t hide her excitement. “I don’t have a better idea of how to get this huttfucker’s attention. Flashing only works when you can see the target.” 

“Must you be gross?”

“Yes, Mako, yes I must.” 

“The charges are magnetic.” Anuli offered up. “Gotta put them on the power generators for maximum yield. One in the control center too.” 

“A facility that size will have several generators,” Gele’ren added. “It’s pretty standard. They’ll be easy to spot. The charges are on a synchronized time. After you’ve planted the last on in the control room, set the time. Then get outta there.”

“I’ll go with you to get the charges, give the kids a chance to catch up.” 

Mako gave her a smile. “I’ll be right there.” 

“You better because partner or not I will leave your ass behind.” It felt like an empty threat. Hrafnhar followed Gele’ren to get the baradium charges, leaving Mako and Anuli a few minutes to catch up after their years apart. 

* * *

Mako hung on tightly as Hrafnhar’s speeder blew out of the factory as quickly as possible. Hrafnhar let out a whoop, just barely audible over the sound of the explosion behind them. The beautiful thing about Nar Shaddaa was that she’d broken _zero_ laws. If the Eidolon couldn’t protect his assets it was an embarrassment for him and nothing to her. 

“Hungry?” she asked over her shoulder.

“I could eat,” Mako replied after a moment’s consideration. 

Hrafnhar pulled over at a noodle stand and purchased some noodles for herself. Mako bought two portions and got the second in a box. When Hrafnhar looked at her funny, Mako just shrugged. “It’s for Anuli.” 

“Yeah, he’s real skinny.”

“It’s also just _nice_ ,” Mako said into her noodle bowl. “We could never afford to eat somewhere like this when we were kids, even if we scraped together enough for one portion, we’d have had to share.” 

“Sounds rough.” 

“It was,” Mako agreed. “But we were together, until I got grabbed by the Rodian brothers. I don’t know _what_ I would have done if Braden hadn’t shown up.”

“You really owed him a lot, didn’t you?” Hrafnhar slurped down some noodles noisily. “Braden really made you what you are.” 

“The old man helped, that’s for sure.” 

“We’ll get Tarro Blood,” Hrafnhar promised, not sure why she felt compelled to offer some form of comfort. 

“I know. Hey, maybe he’s our rival here on Nar Shaddaa.” 

“As if he could keep away from me for that long. That boy wants my dick something fierce.” She winked. “And he can get it. Right in his weaselly little eye socket.” 

“Ew,” Mako laughed. “You’re terrible.” 

“You’re learning to love it.” 

“To my _intense_ horror.” 

They finished their noodles and headed back to Gele’ren’s lair, Mako holding Anuli’s lunch securely in her lap with one arm around Hrafnhar and Hrafnhar taking things a little slower than usual to compensate. 

“Ha!” Gele’ren grinned when he saw them, lighting up like a Life Day tree. “The Eidolon’s property will rain down on the streets for days!” Mako handed Anuli the noodles with a smile while Gele’ren spoke. “I can already hear his holoconversation with the Republic: were those _our_ billions of credits up in smoke?” He laughed again. 

“Sure sucks to be them,” Hrafnhar agreed. 

“I got some discretionary funds from the Cartel to deal with these sorts of problems. I think you’ve earned more than a few of them.” 

Credits! Hrafnhar loved credits!

“The hunter’s gotta know,” Anuli said, leaning over his noodles. “Gele’ren should talk about it. Mako said it was important. She said so.” 

Hrafnhar cocked her whole head instead of just an eyebrow. 

“Wait! What did you find Anuli?” Mako asked. 

“Aw, for the love of franging credits! We’re discussing business here!” Gele’ren complained. 

Anuli ignored him and looked at Mako his eyes wide, searching for acceptance. “Strange weapon orders. Armor plating, blaster cannons, defense shields. Shipped to an abandoned warehouse in the Duros Sector. Makes no sense.”

“Armor plating?” Mako reached up to fiddle with her implant, probably it helped her think. “Hang on, that sounds really familiar. Let me check something.” 

Hrafnhar folded her arms across her chest and waited. “Trouble?” 

“I asked Anuli to help me watch for possible bounty hunter rivals and to look out for anything weird.” Mako said with a little shrug. 

“And this is,” Anuli insisted. “Even for Nar Shaddaa. Nobody ships expensive hardware to empty buildings. Or if they do,” he shrugged, “they hide it better.” 

“Here it is!” Mako announced, looking proud of herself. “The Zargnor Clan.” 

“Excuse you.” 

Mako rolled her eyes at Hrafnhar. “I knew those weapon parts sounded familiar. A clan of ugnaughts got into the Great Hunt by building a bizarre war droid that they would ride inside of. The thing’s blaster cannons blew up during the grand melee. Everyone was killed except the ugnaughts inside the armored droid, making them the winners.” 

“That’s…” Hrafnhar shook her head. “Fucking _hysterical_.” 

“Worth the price of admission _at least_ ,” Mako agreed. “Hey, as possible rival bounty hunters go, these might not be too bad. Assuming they haven’t finished their new war droid.” She gave a slightly exasperated smile. “But, it’d probably be a good idea to get them before they finish.” 

“We got a fix on the warehouse?” 

“It’s in a really sketchy part of town. It’ll be tough to get too,” Mako said, making note of the location. She showed Hrafnhar on a datapad and Hrafnhar nodded. It wouldn’t be _that_ hard. 

“Look,” Gele’ren interrupted. I don’t know what this is about, and I don’t think I wanna know. Take care of your personal business and when you get back, we’ll chat more about the Eidolon.” 

“Works for me,” Hrafnhar shrugged. “You coming Mako?” 

* * *

Hrafnhar kicked in the door to the warehouse, gaining the advantage of surprise and bursting into the room with both blasters drawn and looking for trouble. One of the ugnaughts looked up from directing his fellows in building the massive wardroid and noticed her. He scowled. 

<< Hey! >> he demanded. << Who you? How you get here? >>

Hrafnhar didn’t move her blaster from the ugnaught’s face. “I’m the other guy.” 

<< Oh No! >> squealed another. << You rival! Rival has found us! Must kill rival. >>

Hrafnhar cocked an amused eyebrow. “That would be a good trick, big guy. I’m quivering in my fucking boots.” 

“Hrafnhar,” chided Mako. 

Hrafnhar groaned. “ _Fine_. You realize you can’t win, right? Like, if you try it I will fill you full of holes and desecrate your corpses while Mako makes that face at me.” 

Mako scowled. 

“See, that face.” 

<< What? But we big bounty… >> said one. 

<< He right. We work too hard! >> the second pointed a finger at Hrafnhar and she considered shooting it off for the impudence. << You quit Big Hunt! >>

<< No, >> said the first. << Big hunter right. Mark two not finished. You get drop on us. You big hunter! >>

<< You win, >> said the third. << We leave Big Hunt. You kill Shadow Death! We think you not do it! >>

The ugnaughts left and Hrafnhar groaned to the empty building. 

“I’m proud of you,” Mako said, setting a hand on Hrafnhar’s shoulder. 

“Killing them would have been _so much_ less degrading.” 

“Nothing about that was degrading you big baby. Come on, let’s get back to Anuli and Gele’ren.” 

Hrafnhar huffed. “You’re a terrible influence.” 

“I’m just glad I’m around to keep you in check.” 

They returned to the Slippery Slopes cantina and Hrafnhar considered getting a drink. It would have to wait til their meeting, but then, oh yes, she would partake of Nar Shaddaa’s nightlife. She might even get a lapdance. She might even get _Mako_ a lapdance. That would be funny. 

They met with Gele’ren and it was agreed that things were getting late and that they’d pick things up in the morning. Hrafnhar got a nice room for her and Mako and then hit the bar while Mako took some time to bond with Anuli. 

Hrafnhar had no such acquaintances, she realized. There was absolutely no one from her past that she ever wanted to see again. No one. She had her drink and bought a lapdance, letting the pleasures of the flesh distract her from what had been a long, eventful (but pretty fun) day. She met Mako back at the room and set up a small trap in the doorway to alert her of any unfriendlies before passing out in clean sheets on a soft mattress. 

The next morning she and Mako had breakfast and headed down to Gele’ren’s office in high spirits. 

“So, everything taken care of?” asked Gele’ren. “No more problems? Good, good. My people are looking for signs the Eidolon is on the move. So far, it’s quiet. I think he’s watching.” 

“So we need to shake the shit out of him.” 

“You took the words right out of my mouth, friend. Ha!” Gele’ren grinned. “See, if I get rid of the Eidolon, the Cartel makes me a full-fledged boss with my own clan. And all we gotta do is take out one little assassin and his pet corporation. What a fucking deal, huh?” 

Anuli grinned too. “Mako said Hrafnhar will take me away from here. I help find the Eidolon. I get off Nar Shaddaa. Mako said so.” 

Hrafnhar turned to look at Mako, trying to beam displeasure into her head without having to say anything. She did _not_ appreciate being put on the spot. She didn’t give a _shit_ about Anuli or getting him off Nar Shaddaa. 

But Mako looked at her with _hope_. 

“She said _what?_ ” Hrafnhar asked for clarification, hoping that maybe she’d misheard something, however unlikely that was. 

“I just said I’d talk to you,” Mako held her hands up in defense. “Anuli’s helped us, and he wants off this trash heap. I don’t blame him.” She gave Hrafnhar a small smile, like a child pleading with her parent for a new akk dog. “All we’d have to do is drop him off at the next spaceport. Please? I owe it to him.” 

Anuli’s shoulders slumped. “I hate it here. Everyone uses me. Insults me. I’m just garbage. I hate being scared all the time.” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “Fair enough. I can take you that far.” 

A small part of her started to worry that Mako would get off with Anuli and where would she be _then_ , but Hrafnhar squashed it. She worked well alone, no matter how good a team she and Mako were. 

Mako beamed. “Aww, thanks! This means a lot to me! I’ll owe you one.” 

“Uh-huh.” Hrafnhar turned her attention back to Gele’ren. 

“Now that’s settled, let’s get back to the job of driving Eidolon Security outta business. One of Eidolon Security’s slogans is: your secrets are our secrets. So what if you were to make all those confidential records public.” 

“I could see that pissing him off.” 

“Hey, Anuli, what do I pay you for? How do we put Eidolon Security’s records on the holonet?” Gele’ren asked. 

Anuli stroked his chin, thinking. “That’s real hard. Eidolon’s HoloNet transceivers are in the Network Access Sector, heaving guarded. You gotta slice into those to get their records. But gotta get past Zee’s encryption programs first. You need Zee’s codes—from him. Also a top-notch slicer to access Eidolon’s network.” 

Hrafnhar nodded and hoped Mako counted as a top-notch slicer. Also, who the fuck was _Zee_? 

“Zee’s a bith engineer,” Gele’ren answered the unspoken question. “Best HoloNet security expert money can buy. He won’t just _give_ you those codes.” 

“He either gives them to me or I give him a new asshole in his torso.”

“A hunter after my own heart.” Gele’ren pretended to swoon. “Listen, if some gank won’t help you, he’s bantha fodder.” 

Anuli smiled at Mako, preferring to give her the information. “Zee’s currently consulting for a Republic company called Nebula Communications.” 

“I’ll head there now.” Hrafnhar gestured with her head for Mako to follow. 

“I know I should have talked to you last night,” Mako said as they exited the cantina. “But I was waiting for the right time.”

“The right time would have been _immediately_ ,” Hrafnhar said flatly. “You put me on the spot and I very nearly told him no.” She huffed. “It mean that much to you that he gets off world?” 

Mako nodded. 

“Then I’ll get him off world. But for fuck’s sake, Mako. Don’t spring this shit on me.” 

“I won’t. I promise.” 

* * *

Zee was not at Nebula Communications, but was instead at the Imperial Spaceport heading for a business meeting. Hrafnhar resisted the urge to shoot the security officer who had given her the information because she didn’t want to deal with Mako _tut_ ing at her and it wasn’t really his fault anyway. 

They hauled ass to the spaceport and caught up to him before his flight took off. Hrafnhar spotted a bith near the right flight and jogged over to him, grateful for the lack of witnesses. “Hey,” she tossed her chin like a challenge. “You Zee?” 

The bith nodded. << I’m sorry. I’m afraid I don’t have any time to talk right now. If you’ll excuse me. Hmm?” 

Hrafnhar pulled her blaster. “I need the codes to Eidolon Security’s encryption programs.” 

<< You seem a very intelligent individual, >> Zee said placidly. << Do you understand the grave error you’re making? If you tamper with Eidolon Security, you’ll meet the Eidolon. If that happens, you will die. Please don’t do this? >>

“I’m actually sort of counting on that. Codes. Now.”

<< There’s a problem. You see, if I give you the Eidolon Security codes, the Eidolon will pay _me_ a visit. And I’m sure to die if that happens. >>

Hrafnhar wiggled her blaster to draw attention to it. 

Zee paled. << Although, mathematically speaking, even a slightly prolonged existence is rather more logical. If I hand over the codes, will you let me live? >>

“Sure, so long as you keep your trap shut about the whole thing.” 

<< If I tell Eidolon Security you have their codes, it would only hasten my meeting with the Eidolon. That is, therefore, not a logical choice. >>

Hrafnhar would take it. 

<< Here are the codes. But I must say, the won’t make a difference. Eidolon Security’s mercenaries and sentry droids are the best on Nar Shaddaa. >>

“I’m better,” Hrafnhar promised. 

<< I calculate a very high probability that we will not meet again. >>

“Probably not.” She shrugged. “Have a safe flight.” 

Codes in hand, or rather, pocket, Hrafnhar and Mako headed back to the Slippery Slopes cantina with wide smiles for Gele’ren and Anuli. 

“Guess what I got?” Hrafnhar waved the datapad victoriously. 

“Ha!” laughed Gele’ren. “Wish I coulda seen the look on Zee’s face. Anuli, we good?” 

Anuli took the datapad from Hrafnhar and looked over it, a smile brightening his face as he read. “Everything looks legit. Beautiful work. Zee’s code is like music.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Gele’ren rolled his eyes. “Isolate the ones we’ll need and hand the pad back to our hunter friend.” 

“Eidolon Security’s transceiver codes are marked. Easy to spot. They’ll disable the encryption programs. No problem.” 

“Good.” 

“Okay, so on to phase two of our plan to scrag Eidolon Security’s rep and drive their clients away.” Gele’ren looked to Anuli. “Anuli?” 

“Gotta access Eidolon Security’s data transceivers. Input Zee’s codes. Then slice into Eidolon’s network. Download their files.” 

“Here’s a HoloNet transmitter,” Gele’ren handed it over. “Once you’ve accessed Eidolon’s network, put this onto the transceiver. It’ll let Anuli upload the files straight to the HoloNet.”

Anuli smiled, mostly at Mako. “Eidolon Security’s entire database is on the HoloNet. That’s bad. Real bad.” He grinned. “For _them_.” 

“The transceivers are in the Network Access Sector. Security’s gonna be tight and the Eidolon will have his best men protecting those transceivers. Feel free to kill as many as you want.” 

Hrafnhar turned to Mako as they left the cantina. “So, you sure you’re alright just dropping Anuli off at the next spaceport?” she asked, throwing a leg over the speeder. “He’s a nice kid but he seems like he’d be out of his depth without you.” 

“He’s been without me for years,” Mako pointed out as she slid onto the back. 

“Yeah but he’s had _someone_ ,” Hrafnhar shrugged. “Sure you wouldn’t rather get off with him? Make sure he’s alright?” 

“Would _you_ rather I got off with him?” Mako asked, her voice a little harsh.

“I don’t give a shit one way or the other. This partnership suits me fine, but I worked alone for a long time before I met you.” 

She could feel Mako scowling. 

“I’m just saying,” she said. “You gotta do what’s best for you. Everyone’s out for themselves, Mako. That’s just the way the world works.” 

“Pretty sad philosophy, Hrafnhar.” 

“Yeah, but it’s kept me alive this long.” 

The rest of the ride to the Network Access Sector was in petulant silence, but Hrafnhar wasn’t wrong so she wasn’t going to apologize. Hell, even if she’d been wrong she probably wasn’t going to apologize. What Mako did with Mako’s life was _Mako’s_ problem.

The silence lasted as they hacked into Eidolon Security’s files. It wasn’t _perfect_ silence because they had to communicate to get anything done, but it still weighed them both down. Hrafnhar stood guard. She shot the chief of security in the face when he barged in, not surprised to learn that Zee had talked but definitely annoyed at _Mako_ for it. She held off the waves of security droids and when it was finished pulled out her vibrating holocomm. 

Anuli, panicked and screaming “he found us” materialized in her palm. 

“Haul ass!” She shouted at him, trying to spur him to run. 

“Nowhere to run! He’ll find you! He always finds you! We’re all dead! Get Away! _Get away from me! MAKO—”_ Anuli’s scream hung in the air as he went down. 

“We have to get there!” Mako shouted. “We have to save him.” 

There was no saving him and Hrafnhar knew it. One look at Mako’s desperate face, however, and she couldn’t breathe life into the sentiment. “At least we know where the Eidolon is. Come on.” 

They did in fact haul ass back to the Slippery Slopes cantina and broke into Gele’ren’s office. 

Mako wailed and flung herself down by Anuli’s corpse, checking desperately for a pulse despite the plethora of blaster burns riddling the body. 

Hrafnhar stood by uselessly, pretty sure that she was supposed to offer some form of comfort and more certain that she would be ass at it if she tried. Anuli hadn’t deserved this. _Mako_ didn’t deserve this. Not after Braden. But since when was life about what anyone _deserved_?

Hrafnhar put a hand, a little awkwardly, on Mako’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” 

Mako looked up at her, tears streaking down her cheeks and her lower lip wobbling. “He just wanted a better life. He never hurt anybody.” 

“The Eidolon dies,” Hrafnhar promised, hoping it meant something even though it had already been the plan. 

Mako nodded a couple of times and pushed herself to her feet, drying her eyes with her hands. “What’s our next step?”

“Kill the miserable cocksucker.” Hrafnhar said with a shrug. 

“You took the words right out of my—what was that?” 

Hrafnhar pushed Mako to the floor as a trio of assassin droids uncloaked. She hurled a small grenade at them and fired into the chaos, enough times to be sure, before helping Mako back to her feet. 

Mako looked at the body and started to shake. “I can’t believe he’s gone. I never should’ve left him. It’s all my fault! _Again!_ ” 

“It wasn’t your fault last time either,” Hrafnhar pointed out. “Come on, we’ve gotta go kill this guy.”

Mako nodded and swallowed hard. “Yes. I want to make the Eidolon pay.” She looked over at the desk and her eyes went a little bit wider. “Look! The holocommunicator on Gele’ren’s desk is blinking. Maybe he’s still alive, sending us a message.” 

Hrafnhar sort of doubted it, but a lead was a lead. Instead of Gele’ren, a zabrak male with Imperial markings was on the other end of the holo. Hrafnhar raised both eyebrows, mouth set to an unamused line. 

“Ah,” the Eidolon said. “There you are. It’s been a bit of a challenge tracking you down. I figured you for a rogue agent, but the question was for whom. I should’ve known. Gele’ren’s the only one stupid enough to do this.” 

“What’s the matter, couldn’t show your bitch ass face in person?” 

“Well, the night is young.” He smiled a little bit, a cold, dead smile. “I must admit, I’m rather impressed that one person could be responsible for so much damage. If you wish to meet me, come to these coordinates. I’ll be sitting right here here waiting for you. Of course, the second you step out of the door, you’re dead. A shame, really, since our confrontation would’ve been most… exhilarating.”

Hrafnhar hated blowhards like this guy and she pulled a face to express it. “I’m going to mount your spikey head on a wall.” She killed the transmission. “We’ll deal with the body _after_ we kill this guy.” 

Mako looked down at Anuli’s corpse and nodded slowly. “Yeah. That’s… yeah.”

* * *

The Eidolon was waiting for them in the Network Access Sector and Hrafnhar went on high alert as the entered the probably kill zone. The Eidolon was an assassin. He’d be quick and stealthy. 

But hopefully she’d pissed him off enough that he’d want to make a _speech_ at them first. 

The Eidolon’s safe house was swarming with security, Hrafnhar cut them down without much concern, saving her missiles for the Eidolon himself. 

She found him up on a raised platform, almost stagelike, and mounted the ramp until she and Mako were face to face with him and his assassin droids. 

“Unbelievable,” he said in a growly voice. “Here you stand. Alive. Who are you and why are you doing this?” 

“Just doing my job,” Hrafnhar’s hand strayed down to her blaster. “I’m in it for the money, like a sane and rational person.” 

“You should have picked another career. Nothing for it now, I suppose.” If he was trying to intimidate her he was doing a _really_ poor job of it. “It was a pleasure to meet you. Opponents like you are very rare, and precious. I regret having to kill you.” 

Hrafnhar shrugged, fingers itching for her blaster.

“Wait!” Mako interrupted. “I just got a priority message from Solash. He’s another Cartel Lieutenant. He’s offering a huge bounty if you bring him the Eidolon. Alive.” 

“It might just be your lucky day,” Hrafnhar looked at the Eidolon, her mouth moving to a smirk. “Or not, Hutts being the fucked up slugs that they are.” 

“Oh, come now, you’ll never claim that bounty!” He shook his head. “But then, if we don’t have our dreams, what _do_ we have? Come. It’s time to die.” 

Hrafnhar’s hand shot for her blaster as she rolled to the side to dodge the Eidolon’s opening shot. She got to her feet and the Eidolon rushed her, trying to use his size against her. He wasn’t _huge_ but he had upper body strength on her. Hrafnar shot him in the leg, missing the gut shot as he socked her in the face with the butt of his rifle, breaking her nose. The Eidolon had the advantage, Hrafnhar wanted him alive and he just wanted her dead. 

Mako shot him in the shoulder while he had rushed Hrafnhar and Hrafnhar took advantage of the scream to knee him in the blaster hole in his leg. 

The Eidolon went down and Hrafnhar pointed one of her blasters at his temple, blood leaking down her front. 

“Well,” he demanded angrily, or maybe just in pain. “What are you waiting for. You’ve done it. You’ve beaten me. Finish it now and be remembered forever as the hunter who killed the Eidolon.” 

“I mide judzt gibe joo too da Hutts,” Hrafnhar said through her broken nose. 

“Listen to me,” his voice took on a more desperate bent. “I’m appealing to your sense of honor, as an equal. Don’t hand me over to the Cartel. Kill me now. I deserve that much.” 

Appealing to Hrafnhar’s sense of honor had about as much of a chance of success as trying to eat a moon. She also, through the stinging of her broken nose and the fact that the Eidolon was leaking on the floor, didn’t feel like they were really equals. 

But it wasn’t up to her. This was one bounty she was giving to Mako to make up for being kind of a shitty partner and letting Anuli get killed. 

“Mako, wat do joo tink?”

“He deserves to die,” Mako said evenly. Her mouth was set to a line. “But nobody deserves what the Hutts will do to him. Give him what he wants.” 

Hrafnhar shrugged and pulled the trigger. The Eidolon collapsed and Hrafnhar stooped to fish out his ident cards. Hrafnhar holstered her blaster and reached up to pop her nose back into place. “Son ob a bitch,” she swore, eyes watering. She fished a kolto dart from her pocket and stuck it into her cheek, near the nose. The cool fluid seeped into the damaged tissue and began the work of healing it. 

“Joo should see to Anuli.” Hrafnhar said, working her jaw a little because the kolto felt weird. “I’ll meet joo back on da ship.” 

Mako nodded. “You won’t leave me behind?” 

Hrafnhar shook her head. “Promide.” 

* * *

Sure enough, Hrafnhar waited on the ship for Mako. She didn’t even call to report in her success. She took care of the shopping and washed up, checking that the swelling around her nose had gone down. 

When Mako returned she looked drained, tired. She leaned against the wall of the cockpit and couldn’t quite meet Hrafnhar’s eyes. “We’re not like the Eidolon, right? We’re different?” 

Hrafnhar chewed her jerky thoughtfully. “Because of what we do?” 

“You kill people for money. How is that different?” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “Somedays it isn’t. Other days I have other options. A lot of bounty hunting is finding people who’ve been lost. Like that Altaca guy.” 

Mako frowned, clearly thinking about what the Hutts had been going to do to the Eidolon. “Maybe that’s worse.” She shook her head. “I guess we still have work to do. I hope the rest of our targets are nothing like this guy.” She looked up and gave Hrafnhar an exceedingly brittle smile. “Shall we get out of here? I want to get as far away from Nar Shaddaa as possible.” 

“Let me call the hunt in and yeah, we can bail.” 

“I told you this place was ugly and sleazy.” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. She still liked Nar Shaddaa, but she couldn’t exactly blame Mako for not. The Galaxy seemed intent on kicking the little slicer when she was down. 

She called in and gave Lek a grin. “Eidolon mysteriously kicked it when I planted a blaster bolt in his face.” 

“My intel confirms that. The Hutt Cartel just yanked their _live_ bounty on the Eidolon. I have word that your rivals forfeited to you as well.” 

Hrafnhar nodded and let her chest fill with pride. 

“Congratulations, hunter, you’ve cleared the first round. Your next two targets are on Tatooine and Alderaan.”

Hrafnhar nodded. Neither were her kind of planet but neither were _new_ either. A surprising amount of the galactic underworld went to ground on Tatooine and the Alderaanian nobles pissing contests had filled her pockets more than once. 

“Transmitting your target briefings to you now. Your handler will be pleased to hear they didn’t go to waste. Before you move on to your next target, return to Dromund Kaas. We have something to discuss, in private.” Lek fixed her with an inscrutable look. “Lek out.”

The terminal went black and Hrafnhar turned her attention to Mako, who looked confused. 

“What?” Hrafnhar asked. 

“Wonder what that’s all about? The Huntmaster’s Assistant should _never_ communicate with any hunter during a Great Hunt. It’s just not done.” 

“Maybe I’m _special_.” Hrafnhar shrugged. “Or he’s got a thing for blue chicks.” 

Mako rolled her eyes. “I hope we didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“My behaviour has been _immaculate_.” Hrafnhar pointed out. “But I wouldn’t rule out Tarro Blood shitting all over everything like an incontinent bantha.” She smiled. “We’ll know soon enough.” 


	5. All Sales Are Final

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar handles a problem for the Great Hunt because she's a team player

The chatter in the Mandalorian enclave was even more excited than usual when Hrafnhar and Mako arrived. She didn’t speak a word of Mando’a, but knowing that the Great Hunt was happening she could bet that all the conversations related back to it. Maybe some of the Mandalorians had been placing bets. Maybe they were just hyped up on the knowledge that it was going down. 

It was a sport and Hrafnhar could see herself winning MVP. 

She headed deeper into the enclave, Mako on her heels, and found Lek waiting for her. 

“Hunter,” he said as soon as she was in respectable earshot. “We don’t have a lot of time, so I’ll be brief. The sanctity of the Great Hunt has been compromised.”

Hrafnhar gave him a confused and slightly skeptical look, wondering how and why this was about to be _her_ problem. 

“Seems a slicer got ahold of the Great Hunt’s target list and intends to auction those names to the highest bidders. Exposure like that would _destroy_ the Great Hunt. I need this dealt with quickly and discreetly.” 

That he did, she still couldn’t imagine why he was coming to _her_ with it. This really felt like a Mandalorian problem and she was very much not a Mandalorian. 

“I can see that,” she said in lieu of anything more helpful. She didn’t want the Great Hunt destroyed, she was _enjoying_ herself. She was enjoying herself immensely.

“I need you to find the slicer and learn how he got that list. Once the list is secure, eliminate every scrag stupid enough to show up to that auction.” 

Hrafnhar nodded again. “Sure. Why not?” 

“Nem’ro the Hutt’s paymaster, Juda, told us about the auction. She’s on Hutta; she can tell you more.” 

_Now_ it made sense why Hrafnhar was going. She and Juda had more of a rapport than Juda had with any of the other bounty hunters. 

“The fate of the Great Hunt rests in your hands,” Lek said seriously. “Remember that.” 

Hrafnhar would have rolled her eyes at his tone, but in addition to not having pupils, it _felt_ like a big deal. It felt that, by leaning on her to protect the Great Hunt, they were showing faith in her. Faith that she definitely didn’t deserve but for some reason didn’t want to lose. 

At least shooting up the auction would be interesting. People always brought hired guns to auctions.

She and Mako headed back to the ship in relative silence, only really picking up a conversation when they were aboard for fear of being overheard. 

“Can you believe someone is trying to _auction off_ the Great Hunt’s target list?” Mako asked, shaking her head.

“Given as sentients will auction off just about anything? Yes.” Hrafnhar dropped into the pilot’s seat to prepare for take off. “Luckily for Lek, I’m having the time of my life and don’t want anyone shitting all over it.” She sighed. “I am _not_ looking forward to fucking Jiguuna again though. That town stinks of mud and bloated corpses.” 

“Yeah.” Mako wrinkled her nose. “Hopefully we won’t have to stick around long.” 

* * *

Juda gave Hrafnhar a thin smile when she approached the desk, Mako at her side. 

“Crysta said you’d be coming by,” Juda said, her thin smile worried but still warm. “I was so relieved to hear the Mandalorians weren’t sending a stranger.”

Hrafnhar nodded. “They asked for a favor and are currently supplying my good time, so I figured fuck it, might as well scratch their back.” 

Juda nodded. “Listen, before I tell you what I know about this auction, I need to ask for a favor. There are bound to be some _really_ nasty people at this auction so, please, keep my name out of this. I don’t want to put my family in jeopardy.” 

“Can do,” said Hrafnhar, electing to leave out the knowledge that no one was was going to be crawling away from that den of vipers _anyway_. 

“Thank you. My family means everything to me.” Juda cleared her throat and her lekku twitched a little. “I discovered the auction though one of Nem’ro’s business associates. We were settling an account, and he asked if Nem’ro would be participating. I pretended I knew what he was talking about. _That’s_ how I learned about the slicer and the list.” 

“Where and when are they doing it?” 

“The auction is taking place here in Jiguuna. The slicer left these details for Nem’ro.” Juda forwarded the relevant information to Mako. “I hope they help. It should have already started. Please let me know how it goes; I won’t be able to sleep otherwise.” 

“I’ll handle this,” Hrafnhar said before looking over to Mako. “You know where we’re going?” 

“Yeah, it’s pretty close.” 

“Excellent.” 

The auction was being held in a factory building near the swamp. Hrafnhar _hated_ Jiguuna’s swamp. It smelled manky, oozed onto things and at it’s shallower points came up to her ankles. It was gross. She kicked the muck off her boots as best she could in the doorway and proceeded inside for a good ol’ fashioned fish in a barrel shoot-out. 

There were gangsters of almost every denomination hanging around. Mako stuck as close to Hrafnhar as she could as they proceeded deeper in to get to the people who were actually part of the auction and the very, particularly, dead slicer. 

“You ain’t listening!” shouted one unhappy customer. “I don’t want the whole list! I just wanna know if my name’s on it.” 

“An excellent point,” voiced another. “What if we’re only interested in _certain_ names?” 

“I’m sure we could come to some arrangement. That’s what this auction is all about.” The man behind the table, a skinny human kid who was ostensibly the slicer, had on an easy smile that looked forced around the edges. 

“How about I just bleed you nice and slow then take the list from your cold, dead hands?” the first man threatened. 

Hrafnhar neared the table and remember that the _first_ thing Lek wanted was the source of the list in the first place and _then_ she was supposed to murder everyone. “You can always kill him later,” she suggested. 

“You talkin’ to me, wimp?” the first one said. “I don’t think you realize where you are. Look around! We’re the most wanted killers in the galaxy! Anyone here could rip you limb from limb.” 

“That’d be an awfully impressive trick with my blaster so far down your throat that you’re shitting laser.” 

“Let’s try to keep this civil, okay?” The slicer licked his lips nervously. “If you’re not here to bid, please leave.” 

“I say we kill this worm and get another slicer to crack the pad.” The first thug pulled his blaster. 

Hrafnhar and the second thug pulled their blasters in turn. 

“Suits us just fine.” The second thug fired at the slicer, missed, and the slicer took off running. When the three thugs who’d been standing by the table turned around to give chase, Hrafnhar shot all three of them cleanly in the back of the head and then skipped after the kid, finding him cowering behind a bunch of crates. 

She kicked his foot with her muddy boot and gestured with the blaster for him to stand. “So,” she said conversationally. “How’d you get the liiiiist?” 

“Some guy!” the kid shouted. “Said he was a Mandalorian! He got me the codes to break in. Said I could sell the names and make a fortune.” 

“Well that was stupid of both of you. What’s your code-daddy’s name?” 

“I never met the guy! I got contacted via holo. He kept his face hidden and disguised his voice. He said targets assigned to Tarro Blood were off-limits. Maybe he has money on this Blood guy winning.” 

Mako frowned. “Or Tarro Blood gave this slicer the list.” 

“Probably one of his damn cronies.” It wasn’t fair that only insufferable jackasses got cronies. Hrafnhar deserved at least one. And Mako had too much free will (and a conscience) to count. 

“That man has lived way longer than he has any right to,” Mako complained. 

“True.” Hrafnhar nodded. “Too fucking true.” 

Corpse toboggan. That was the plan. 

“That’ll help you find him, right?” stammered the poor, terrified kid. “I’ve told you everything I know! Please, just let me go! I’ll never talk about that list again.” 

Hrafnhar pulled the trigger and watched body slump to the floor. “No. No you will not.” 

Mako looked offended. 

“It was the job,” Hrafnhar said. “Go grab the list.” 

Mako headed over to the desk to pick it up rejoining Hrafnhar by the body. Hrafnhar rolled her shoulders back. “They stipulated everyone. We have a _lot_ of gangsters between us and the door.” 

“ _Joy_ ,” Mako whined, pulling her blaster and following Hrafnhar into the carnage and out the other side. 

They returned to Juda when everyone was dead. 

“You’re back,” Juda look pleasantly surprised, which admittedly grated a little. “I was getting worried. Was everything… taken care of?” 

“I’m the best there is,” Hrafnhar said with a casual shrug. “I don’t leave jobs half-finished.” 

“So, everyone at the auction is… dead? All of them?” 

“Yep.” 

“Sorry. This whole affair has me on edge.” 

“Well,” Mako offered hopefully. “Things should start looking up now. 

“I’m just glad it’s finally over.” Juda moved back behind her desk. “Please give my regards to Crysta.” 

Hrafnhar nodded and left, heading out of Nem’ro’s palace and back to the spaceport. 

“How do you figure she knows Crysta?” Mako asked.

“They fuck,” Hrafnhar said with a shrug. “Juda likes being held down while she’s eaten out and Crysta’s more than happy to oblige.” 

Mako looked scandalized. “You’re _joking_.” 

Hrafnhar turned so she was walking backwards and just _grinned_ at her. “Of course I fucking am. How am I supposed to know how they know each other?” 

Mako rolled her eyes. “You’re _terrible._ ” 

* * *

They returned to Dromund Kaas and the Mandalorian enclave _mostly_ victorious. They didn’t know the specific name of the Mandalorian responsible, but they knew that it related back to Tarro Blood. And watching him get kicked out of his _second_ Great Hunt would be the best thing until Hrafnhar opened his chest like an Alderaanian clutch purse and used it to store a bunch of rodents. 

She was starting to consider that she loved the enclave a little bit. There was an energy found nowhere else on Dromund Kaas, an excitement and a playfulness that was so staggeringly unlike the life she’d known that she _craved_ it. She expected more somberness from men and women kitted out in full armor all the time, but as she passed through to Lek, she passed playfighting and teasing and laughter. It was… nice. 

She headed inside to Lek and found him waiting with Crysta. She smiled at both of them. 

“Glad to see you in one piece, hunter.” Lek gave an approving nod. “Is that auction dead and buried?” 

“It and everyone dumb enough to show up for it.” Hrafnhar folded her arms over her chest and leaned her weight to one side. 

“That’s what I wanna hear.” Lek clapped. “Seems the Huntmaster was right about you. Talk to me. This was more than a grab-and-shoot. Did you find out how that slicer got the list?” 

“Slicer swore he didn’t know. And as he swore when I had a gun to his head, I am inclined to believe him.” It wouldn’t do any good to link it back to Blood, not with their flimsy evidence and him being a privileged Mandalorian. 

“Makes sense that the coward would hide. If he sold out the Great Hunt, there’d be hell to pay.” He sighed. “We’ve got the target list back. That’ll have to do for now. Thanks for taking care of this, hunter. It was good doing business with you.” Lek forwarded a payment to Hrafnhar’s account. 

Crysta grinned. “Your targets on Tatooine and Alderaan ain’t gonna kill themselves. Go get ‘em. Pronto.” 

Hrafnhar grinned right back. “Will do.” 

She turned and headed back through the fighting and the laughing that filled the enclave and took the taxi back to her ship, Mako in the seat beside her. 

“What?” Hrafnhar asked. 

“Why didn’t you tell them it was Blood?” 

“Because we don’t have any proof and they’ll assume that after Braden we have an axe to grind. Which they’re right about. We’ll kill that ass-licking son of a hutt, but we’re going to have to be just a little bit clever about it.” 

Mako nodded and let her shoulders drop. “I wish we didn’t have to wait.” 

“Yeah,” Hrafnhar said. “Me too.” 

* * *

They resupplied before leaving Dromund Kaas and bought a meal at the spaceport so they didn’t have to worry about cooking. Hrafnhar laid in a course for Tatooine, but it would take them a few days to get there. 

“Remember _Lord Dak-Ah_?” Mako asked as she exited the fresher, hair still dripping. 

“Fantasizing about him in the fresher?” Hrafnhar asked, dodging the hand towel Mako tossed at her. She laughed. “Yes, I remember.” 

“The Altacas announced his triumphant return home from harrowing captivity. He’s already being asked to travel and talk about it.” 

“Think they’ll bring up the whole ‘I had to pretend I was fucking my sister’ thing? Because I’d _watch_ that interview.” 

“We might have to pick up a recording and find out.” 

“We might at that.” 

“So…” Mako cleared her throat, clearly trying to segue into another topic. Something she was bad at. “Been sort of wondering what kind of people put classified government doodads in their kids’ heads.” 

“The _your parents_ kind of people.” 

“Figured there had to be something in the official records I could dig up.”

“And was there?” It was strange, Mako was so driven to uncover her past and Hrafnhar, who wanted nothing more than to forget her own, couldn’t wrap her head around it. 

Mako shook her head. “Nothing came up in official channels. Means I probably wasn’t born on the Smuggler’s Moon. But I figure,” she shrugged, “ _someone_ on Nar Shaddaa’s got to remember them, right? Just have to keep asking.” 

“I don’t suppose you have any theories about them?”

Mako got a small smile. “I like to imagine they’re smugglers. Tragically shot down hauling a cargo of illegal gizkas.” She cleared her throat. “What about your parents?” 

“Nope,” Hrafnhar shook her head. “I don’t talk about them and I’m pretty fucking certain that they don’t talk about me.” 

“Sorry.” 

“It’s fine, I don’t expect you to remember, I’ll just continue to shut you the fuck down when it comes up.” Hrafnhar grinned at her. 

It would be a long flight to Tatooine, but not, hopefully, an unpleasant one. 


	6. You Could Be My lucky Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The One, The Only, The Ineffable Gault Rennow

They were almost to Tatooine when Mako’s eyes went wide and she left the cockpit at a jog. Curious, Hrafnhar followed her to the holoterminal. “What?” 

“Crysta’s calling on an emergency channel. Better patch her through.”

Hrafnhar watched the terminal flicker to life and frowned expectantly at Crysta. 

Who mostly just looked relieved. 

“Finally! You’re some hard critters to pin down. Ignore my recording for Tatooine, honey. Everything’s changed. That slicer selling the Great Hunt list started a trend.” 

Hrafnhar raised an eyebrow. 

“Somebody told your target he was a marked man. Naturally, he decided to make himself scarce.” 

“Not the first time I’ve been after someone who knew I was coming. What’s his name?” 

“You’re after Tyresius Lokai, a scoundrel who’s been on the galaxy’s most wanted list _forever.”_

Hrafnhar very narrowly avoided her jaw falling open. 

Mako was not so skillful. “ _The_ Tyresius Lokai? That smuggler cheated the Hutt Cartel, Exchange, and Black Sun gangs out of a fortune.” 

And he was, very privately, Hrafnhar’s hero. She couldn’t wait to bring him down. 

“And he’s been buying himself out of trouble ever since,” Crysta said with a nod. 

He was _so cool_ , Hrafnhar was going to shoot him like seven times to make sure he was really dead. She could only imagine the hike in her reputation after taking him out. 

“Two days ago, your rival bounty hunter shot down Tyresius’s ship over Tatooine but then lost him in the desert.” 

“So he’s stuck there.”

“There ain’t reports of him being someplace else,” Crysta gave a small shrug. “The good news is Tyresius is Devaronian, he shouldn’t be hard to spot.”

“That’s true,” Mako kicked in. “I’ve seen _two_ Devaronians in my whole life. They’ve got red skin and two big horns on their heads.” 

“Talk to the spaceport traffic control droid at Mos Ila. Find out if any Devaronians have been through there recently.”

“Good thought.” 

“Tyresius has a reputation for being slippery; when you catch him, better hold on tight.” 

“Oh,” Hrafnhar laughed. “I _will_.” 

The holoterminal went dark and Hrafnhar headed back to the cockpit to arrange landing in Mos Ila. 

Tatooine was ubiquitously terrible, hot and dry and the sand got _everywhere_ , but knowing she was landing to take out Tyresius Lokai made it all worthwhile. She’d get him and then she would _factually_ be the greatest bounty hunter even if she didn’t win the Great Hunt. Which was a moot point because she was _going_ to win the Great Hunt. 

They set down in Mos Ila’s spaceport and the temperature was already _bad_. Hrafnhar changed to a skimpier top and slathered herself and then Mako with sunscreen. 

“Not going to wear a real top?” Mako asked, gesturing to Hrafnhar’s bikini top. 

“I overheat easily,” Hrafnhar complained with a shrug. “Benefits of being from an ice planet.” She also had on a pair of cargo pants to carry and and all of the junk that usually lived in the pockets of her shirt and jacket. She stretched and headed for the door, Mako on her heels. 

Tatooine was unforgivably hot, even within the air conditioned and shaded spaceport. Outside would be worse and she knew it. Everyone knew it. But outside didn’t have to happen _just yet_. 

Hrafnhar looked around and spotted a traffic control droid. She moved to talk to it, letting her posture slouch comfortably to one side. “I’m looking for a Devaronian named Tyresius Lokai. Heard of him?” 

“Scanning databanks,” intoned the droid. “One moment please.” 

Hrafnhar tapped her foot, unable to help the impatience. 

“Records indicate only on Devaronian present at the spaceport, a merchant named Gellar Roing.”

Mako smiled at Hrafnhar. “Bet you anything Gellar Roing is an alias for Tyresius Lokai.” 

“I don’t take sucker bets,” Hrafnhar beamed right back at her. “You’re probably right.” She looked back at the droid. “Where do I find this guy?” 

“Gellar Roing’s vessel is awaiting departure clearance in docking bay sixty-four. Do you wish for me to contact him?” 

Hrafnhar shook her head. “No thanks, I’m trying to surprise him.” 

“Very well, but he is scheduled for takeoff soon. If you hurry, you might be able to catch him.”

Hrafnhar gave a grateful nod to the droid and headed back the way she’d come, taking a sharp right to reach docking bay 64.

“Gellar Roing” stood out like a sore thumb. He was a little on the taller side with two pristine horns shooting out of his burnt orange skull. Hrafnhar skipped over to him, letting her right hand drop to linger by her blaster. 

“How long can it take to get clearance from this lousy spaceport?” “Gellar” muttered to himself as Hrafnhar and Mako got within earshot. “Stupid locals.” He looked up at the sound of footsteps and put on a weary smile. “You look lost, friend. Can I help you?” 

“I’ve been looking forward to this for a _long_ time, Tyresius.”

To his credit, “Gellar” looked actually surprised and shook his head. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I’m Gellar Roing, speeder salesman from Nar Shaddaa. If you’re in the market I have great deals on the new T-9s.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Unfortunately, I’m a bit rushed. Look me up on Nar Shaddaa, won’t you? The name’s Roing— That’s R-O-I-N-G.” 

“I will say you’re a convincing fucking liar, Lokai. But you’re not talking your way out of this.” 

“Sorry, I don’t know any Lokai. Who exactly are you? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

“I’m the end of the line, friend.” 

“End of the—ha!” his eyes twinkled and then he juked hard behind the guy behind him in line. “Shoot you fools!” 

Hrafnhar pulled her blaster and shot the big human bodyguard in the leg. “Mako!” she shouted. “Hold him.” She turned and peppered the two other bodyguards with lasers until they were lying in pools of their own rapidly cooling blood. She turned back to the man with a hole in his leg and his arms up, staring balefully at the barrel of Mako’s blaster. 

Hrafnhar gave him a slow and predatory smile. “You might just get to live if you tell me where he’s going.” 

“I’ve got no loyalty to that scum,” he said, first and foremost. “He left us here to die. The pay is great, but he never said we’d go up against anything like you.” 

“I am pretty fucking incredible. Where’d he go?” 

“The Devaronian said a bounty hunter shot down his starship. He walked across the desert to reach Mos Ila. Blasted lucky he made it.” 

“ _Lucky_ is this guy’s middle name. But it’s about to all dry up.” 

“He can turn around even the worst luck. I’ve seen it.”

Hrafnhar cocked an eyebrow. 

“This bounty hunter caught up to us. Nasty little Rhodian. Before we could draw blasters, the Devaronian cuts a deal. Not only did he buy off the bounty hunter, he convinced him to sell his own starship.” 

Hrafnhar’s heart did a little flutter. “No shit, really?” Lokai had saved her the trouble of killing the other bounty hunter if he’d bought him out of the Great Hunt. Tatooine would only be half the work, once she found Tyresius again. 

“He’s better than good. He negotiates better than a Jedi mind trick! The Rodian’s celebrating with a private party at a club outside of town. He’s throwing around credits like sand. 

Mako nudged Hranhar a little. “I cross-referenced the ship’s registration with known Rodian bounty hunters. Found your rival. Veeboo Lunx. Deadly accurate with a blaster, but has a reputation for laziness.” Mako shrugged. “I’m surprised he made it this far.” 

“Well he’s not going any fucking further.” 

Mako frowned a little. “If Tyresius bought off your rival once, he might try it again. Use a bounty hunter to fight a bounty hunter?” 

Hrafnhar nodded, it was certainly possible. 

“That’s useful information, right?” The bodyguard looked up at the two women and clutched his hands together to please. “Please let me go. This was never personal.” 

“Scoot,” Hrafnhar said as Mako lifted her blaster away. 

The poor man limped away as fast as he could. 

Mako grinned up at Hrafnhar, pride shining through her youthful features. “Good idea, letting him live.” 

Hrafnhar rolled her eyes. 

“He’ll warn the other mercenaries to stay out of our way.” 

Hrafnhar reached over and mussed Mako’s hair. “You are such a fucking goodie goodie. It’s precious.” 

Mako swatted her hands away and ducked back to try and fix her hair. “All right, geez.” She huffed. “Let’s drop in on your rival hunter’s big party. It’s the only lead we’ve got.” 

“ _Our_ rival hunter,” Hrafnhar corrected easily. “Last I checked we were a team.” 

Mako’s smile warmed. “Our rival.” 

* * *

Outside was _considerably_ worse than inside. The wind was abrasive because of all the sand and did very little to cool anything under the power of the twin suns. Hrafnhar and Mako took the speeder across the desert to the Varanth Cantina and parked in the relative shade of the building. 

The inside was much cooler, but still hot and kind of dusty. Hrafnhar and Mako followed the sounds of celebration downstairs. Veeboo was easy to spot, as he was the only Rodian in the room and also the clear host giving the dancers that crowded around him. It looked like a nice party, but, unfortunately, she was working and Lokai was gaining more ground the more time she spent dicking around. 

She walked over to Veeboo and crossed her arms over her chest. “So did you let Lokai live because you’re a shiftless laze-about or did he grease you up and aim for penetration first?” 

Veeboo looked confused for a moment and then recognition loosened the knot in his shoulders. “Oh, it’s you. My ‘rival’.” He gestured to the room at large. “Welcome to the party. You’re probably wondering why an amazing bounty hunter like myself quit the Great Hunt and let Tyresius go.” 

“The thought crossed my mind.” 

“The answer’s simple: more credits than I’d ever earn chasing bounties for the rest of my life. Even if I _won_ the Great Hunt.” 

So he’d just _quit_ , just like that. It wasn’t right it was… honestly it was a little offensive. Hrafnhar tried to put herself in his boots, more credits that she could make chasing bounties for the rest of her life _was_ solidly tempting. 

But _stars_ , she’d get so _bored_. 

“If you’re looking for Tyresius, you just missed him. He dropped by a little before you. Said he needed a new ship.” Veeboo rubbed his hands together. “I sent him to the Lady of Pain. Can’t wait to see what she does with him.” 

“Who is this bitch?” 

“Don’t worry about her. Worry about me.” Veeboo pulled his blaster and Hrafnhar pulled both of hers and jostled Mako mostly behind her. “See, Tyresius tossed me a bonus to eliminate you. Thanks for making yourself easy to find.” 

“All part of the service.” 

“Come on boys! Time to earn your pay!” 

Veeboo had the numbers to kill her and Mako, but unlike his crew, the two women were stone sober. Hrafnhar ignited her jetpack and rained mortars down onto the hapless brutes while Mako shot for center body mass. 

Hrafnhar landed and shot Veeboo in the head, dropping to kneeling to take the cred-chit out of his pocket. She looked over at the terrified twi’lek dancer and holstered her blaster. “Sorry about the mess,” she said, not feeling particularly sorry about it. “I don’t suppose you know where I can find this ‘Lady of Pain’, do you?” 

“I performed for her once. She gave me the creeps.” The twi’lek woman got up off her knees. “The Lady of Pain runs a compound not far from here.” She pointed. “Bad part of the desert. You can’t miss it.” 

“Thanks,” Hrafnhar sent her a small tip. “Keep out of trouble.” 

She and Mako left the cantina and settled back on the speeder, heading out in the direction the dancer had indicated. 

“I am _not_ loving the name of this lady.” Mako said over the wind. 

Hrafnhar nodded. “I just hope she doesn’t kill Lokai, that’s _my_ job.”

They reached the Lady of Pain’s compound and Hrafnhar considered too late that “Lady of Pain” was probably a kink thing and Mako wasn’t ready for that. As soon as they entered the compound, however, all eyes were on them and Hrafnhar didn’t really have a _chance_ to warn Mako about the possibility of naked people. 

And naked people there were. Or well, there was one, and technically she was only _mostly_ naked. More interestingly, she had Tyresius in cuffs. Which, if she could be convinced to part with him, make Hrafnhar’s job _loads_ easier. 

“I already have those,” The Lady of Pain (a short and mostly naked rattataki woman) crooned in response to whatever Lokai had offered. “Stop wasting my time.” 

Hrafnhar grinned as she and Mako came up close. “What’s wrong, Tyresius? She being a hard sell?” 

“Oh boy,” Tyresius rolled his eyes. “Here we go again.” 

“ _Tyresius_ ,” the Lady of Pain chuckled. “Shame on you, you naughty little Devaronian.” She flicked the back of Tyresius’s wrist. 

“Sincerest apologies, Lady,” Tyresius recovered lightning fast. “Now that you know I’m the justifiably famous Tyresius Lokai, you also know my resources.” He grinned. “I need you to eliminate this bounty hunter and help me leave Tatooine. I’ll pay generously of course.” 

“It would be _rude_ to eliminate someone before I’ve heard her counter offer.” The Lady of Pain closed the distance between herself and Hrafnhar and put a hand on Hrafnhar’s stomach that was _deeply_ uncomfortable. Hrafnhar kept from squirming away. “Creds and shit don’t do it for you. You’re interested in something _special_.” 

_If you’re going to compete in the Great Hunt, you need to be willing to do anything._

The Lady of Pain chuckled darkly, her hand still sitting on Hrafnhar’s bare stomach.“I have a _keen_ interest in gladiatorial contests,” she pouted a little. “A match is scheduled for today and I’ve lost my beloved champion. Whoever fights as my new champion could ask _any_ favor of me.” 

_Oh thank the stars_ , “I’m pretty good in the ring. I’ll fight for you.” 

“Lady,” Tyresius interjected. “This is a _terrible_ mistake. Don’t be a fool.”

The Lady of Pain dropped her hand away from Hrafnhar’s stomach (permitting her to exhale at last) and whirled around on Tyresius. “Fool? Guards, take Tyresius away… and remove his tongue.” She looked at Hrafnhar. “You don’t need it, do you?” 

The only _mistake_ being made that Hrafnhar could see was letting Tyresius out of her sight, but Hrafnhar wasn’t in a place to insist. She looked at Tyresius and no, she didn’t _need_ his tongue. But he was also the most slippery prey she’d ever come across and that meant _something_. 

“I might need his tongue actually, so I’d like him to keep it.” 

The Lady of Pain sighed. “Very _well_. I suppose he’s your property, assuming you win the match.” She snapped her fingers for the guards. “Put Tyresius somewhere safe, guards. And watch him. He’s _slippery_.” 

“You haven’t heard the last of me,” Tyresius announced as the guards led him away. “Either of you.” 

When he was gone the Lady of Pain gestured to another room. “Your opponent is in the next room. When you’re ready, meet me and my guests there.” 

Hrafnhar waited until she was gone. “Look, kid,” she said to Mako. “I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone with that creep but gladiator fights are usually one on one so I need you to sit tight with the Lady until I’m done.” 

Mako nodded, but she didn’t look happy about it. 

The next room was outdoors, a pit had been dug and spectators stood around it. Hrafnhar took a deep breath and made her way to the Lady of Pain, Mako on her heels behind her. 

“I’m ready to fight,” she said, Mako peeling off to find a good vantage point. 

“Wonderful,” crooned the Lady of Pain. “Fell Dargun, this is my new champion.” 

A man wearing robes with a head wrapping to keep himself cool, looked Hrafhnar up and down. “A bounty hunter? Borga will rip this fool limb from limb. Won’t you, my beautiful boy.” He looked adoringly at a huge gamorrean. 

<< I eat this worm’s head! Rip out its guts and make a new puppet! >>

“And they say fighters don’t have the soul to be craftsmen,” Hrafnhar scoffed. 

“Save it for the match, Borga,” said Fell Dargun. 

“May the best fighter win,” said the Lady of Pain. 

Hrafnhar headed down into the pit and blew a kiss to where Mako was sitting. She was too far away to know for certain, but she was pretty sure Mako rolled her eyes and smiled. 

At the bottom of the pit, Hrafnhar drew her blasters and waited for the fun to start. The hardest part about gladiator fights was the knowledge that you had to keep it interesting. You had to make it fun to watch or the patrons got angry. 

And the last thing she needed was to piss of the Lady of Pain. 

She rolled out of the way as Borga swung with his axe. She blasted him in the thighs, enough to weaken him but not bring him down, and switched on her jetpack to dodge another sweep, shooting him in the biceps as she sped overhead. She chanced a glance up at Mako and then shot the charging gamorrean in the face so he landed on his chin in front of her. Breathing hard, Hrafnhar raised her arms to accept the shouts and cheers, Mako cheering louder than anyone, and then she headed back up to the Lady to collect her well deserved reward of one hard to pin down Devaronian.

“Delicious,” the Lady crooned. “For a moment I thought Borga might kill you.” 

“I wanted you to get your money’s worth of excitement.” 

“I most certainly did.” 

Fell whirled around from where he was bemoaning the death of his “beautiful boy”. “This isn’t over, Lady!” he shouted. “I’ll return with a new champion.”

“I hope so, Fell. Out little gatherings always make my day.” She smirked. “Kisses.” 

Fell took off a a jog but he was pretty instantly replaced by one of the guards who had led Tyresius away. 

“Lady,” he gasped, coming to a stop. “Tyresius escaped! He hit us with a stun grenade.” 

The Lady of Pain’s pleasant expression mutated to one of fury. “I _watched_ you disarm him,” she snapped. “Where did he get that weapon?” 

“One of his horns was fake,” answered the guard. “He hid the grenade inside it. Please,” he begged. “Don’t cripple me. It’s not my fault.” 

Hrafnhar whistled, unable to be anything but _impressed_. “That man is devious. I’ve got butterflies.” 

“He manipulated me into escorting him away from you. It’s so obvious now.” The Lady of Pain frowned. “I hate him.” She looked at the guard. “One of you saw where Tyresius went, yes?” 

The guard swallowed and stared at the ground. “He stole a swoop bike and a hyperdrive regulator; he could be anywhere by now.” 

“But I’ll find him.” The Lady’s frown became a wicked and cruel smile. “The swoop bikes all have homing beacons. A precaution against thieving Jawas and stupid guards.” 

“Clever,” Hrafnhar admitted. 

“I’ll consult my tracker.” She picked up a device that had sat alongside her drink for the match. “Ah, there he is. The stolen swoop bike stopped at these coordinates in the deep desert.” 

“Hrafnhar,” Mako said. “If Tyresius stole a hyperdrive regulator, he might be trying to fix his old ship—the one that got shot down.” 

“Seems likely,” Hrafnhar nodded and turned to the Lady. “It’s been fun, but I should probably bail.” 

“I don’t often say this,” the Lady of Pain purred. “But the pleasure has been all mine. Good luck.” 

* * *

“I’m melting,” Hrafnhar whined over the sound of the wind and speeder.

“You’re not even wearing a real shirt.” 

“My delicate constitution was built for more moderate climates.” 

“There there,” Mako gave her a tentative pat on the shoulder. “There’s the swoop bike.” 

Hrafnhar pulled over beside it. Her feet crunched the sand, falling a few inches into it like burning snow. The way forward was swarming with sand people and forced Hrafnhar and Mako to move more slowly than they would have liked, clearing out one group at a time so they didn’t get swarmed. 

On the other side of the sand people, Hrafnhar spotted Tyresius fiddling with _something_. As they got closer it turned out to be a droid. 

“Going somewhere, honeybunches?” Hrafnhar asked, blaster trained on his black little heart. 

“Not with all those dune rats nipping at my heels,” he gestured to the small trail of dead sand people. “That’s for clearing that up.” He turned his attention back to the droid. “You’re _sure_ she’s ready for take-off?” 

“I’ve checked the calculations four times, master. With shields at minimum—”

“Right, right,” Tyresius sighed. “That just leaves our friend here to deal with. If you want something done right,” he pulled his blaster. “Do it yourself. Open fire NK!” 

Hrafnhar unloaded both blasters into the droid, dropping behind cover as Tyresius focused fire on her. 

Lokai groaned as he was clipped in the shoulder, forced to drop his blaster. Hrafnhar and Mako finished reducing NK to scrap.

“All right,” Tyresius came out from behind cover with his hands up, bleeding from the shoulder. “You win. Let’s cut a deal.” 

“Nothing darkens that sunny demeanor, does it?” Hrafnhar asked, trying to snide and unfortunately sounding every bit as impressed as she was. 

“Everything is negotiable,” he said. “ _Everything_.” He reached slowly into his pocket and produced a red gemstone that sparkled in the miserable sunlight. “This is the famous Star of Aldera. The most valuable gem in the galaxy.” 

“No master!” groaned NK from the ground. “Not you most prized possession! We must fight!.”

“Quiet, NK! We’d never stand a chance.”

“Alderaan’s royal family would pay a fortune to get this gem back. Let me go, and it’s yours.” 

“Tell me.” Hrafnhar rolled her eyes. “ _Exactly_ how dumb do I look?” 

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he shrugged. “Take the gem anyway, I _insist_.” At the word _insist_ Tyresius lobbed the gem at Hrafnhar’s feet and everything exploded as it let loose a shock wave that almost took both her and Mako off their feet. As Tyresius retreated they heard the barking of Akk dogs and both got ready. A small pack, maybe five beasts in all, rushed down the hill. Hrafnhar polished them off with missiles from a distance and the and Mako charged up to the ship where Tyresius was trying to escape. 

He kicked the console and Hrafnhar almost felt bad for his frustration. Almost. 

Tyresius sighed and let his shoulders drop. “You’re the toughest, most persistent bounty hunter I’ve ever met. I have only one thing left to say.” He turned around. “Give me a job.” 

“What?” Hrafnhar’s eyes went wide. 

“Spare my life and I’ll dedicate it to working for you. How’s that sound?” 

_Amazing_ if it were genuine and she didn’t need him dead to progress in the Great Hunt. Combining his luck with her skill and Mako’s HoloNet thing would make for an unbeatable team. But he was definitely blowing smoke up her ass. “Like you’re blowing smoke up my ass while you formulate another escape plan, honestly.” 

“I’m tired of running,” he explained. “My fortune’s gone but I’m still hunted. I want Tyresius Lokai dead as much as anyone.” His expression brightened a little. “What if I told you there’s a duplicate of yours truly. A replica identical in all respects? Even a _bioscan_ couldn’t tell the difference.” 

“I would be confused.” 

Mako nodded her agreement. 

“A scientist on Nar Shaddaa made it. Amazing what’s for sale there. My duplicate is already dead, frozen in carbonite. Just pretend he’s me.” 

Hrafnhar nodded, she could see how that would work. She _shouldn’t_ trust him. 

But she _wanted_ to trust him. 

And she should definitely not trust that. 

“Once I’m declared dead, I’ll put my legendary skills, savvy and contacts at your disposal. Imagine what we could accomplish.” 

She couldn’t _help_ but imagine. “And when you just vanish at the next spaceport?”

Tyresius laughed. “I’m deeply wound by your mistrust, yet reassured by your intelligence.” 

“I hate to say it,” Mako chimed in. “But having him on our team might be useful.”

“I swear I’ll never run,” Tyresius promised. “I’m safer as your _servant_ that as a fugitive. Even if I did escape, you’d just find me again. Honestly, who want to have this conversation twice?” 

Hrafnhar smiled and holstered her blaster slowly. _If_ it was genuine, she was looking at a whole new _bracket_ of profits. She’d be in a whole other league. “Not servant. _Partner_.”

The smile that spread over Tyresius’s face was slow, but genuine. “Fantastic. You won’t regret this.” He headed back to the ship and produced a carbonite slab with his duplicate inside. They set it up beside the ship. 

“Should only take a few moments to thaw him out.” 

“Particularly in this heat,” Hrafnhar whined some more. 

Mako rolled her eyes and all three of them jumped when the duplicate dropped out of the carbonite to land on the sand with a pillowy “whump”. 

“We need to make it look convincing. A couple of blaster shots should sell it,” Tyresius looked at Hrafnhar. “Want to do the honors?” 

Hrafnhar pulled her blaster and fired twice, once between the eyes and once in the throat. 

“Shit,” Tyresius swore. “I’m glad we decided to work together.” He gestured to the ship. “Let me collect my gear and we can be on our way.” 

He returned with two bags and a blaster rifle. “So, I’ll need a new name. After all, Tyresius Lokai is dead.” 

“Sounds wise.” Hrafnhar hefted the duplicate body onto her shoulders in case they needed proof. 

“What do you think of the name _Gault Rennow_? Has a nice ring to it.” 

“I like it, sounds catchy and like you could trust it.” 

“Yes,” Gault nodded. “A fine name for an exciting new life.” 

“Why don’t you and ‘Gault’ ride back to the ship together, I can take the body on the stolen swoop bike.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Hrafnhar transferred the body to Mako who buckled a little under the weight. 

* * *

“That is a phenomenally ugly ship,” Gault said as he got his first look of _The Varactyl’s Nipples_. 

“I stole it. _The Varactyl’s Nipples._ ” 

Gault stared at her, probably to figure out if he was being fucked with or not. “...Wow.”

“Catchy, dontcha think?” 

“You couldn’t have stolen one with more _class_?” 

Hrafnhar laughed and shook her head. “I was assigned this baby. Next time I need a ship though, the plan is to have you talk them into giving us a good one.” 

“I look forward to the opportunity,” Gault muttered. “At least it looks roomy.” 

“It is _really_ fucking roomy,” Hrafnhar assured him as they entered it. “So that,” she pointed, “is Mako’s room. And mine is the big one across from the fresher. Any of the others are up for grabs.” 

He picked a room and looked around with something like disdain. “So, this is home. A little spare, don’t you think?” 

“Were you expecting lace? Maybe some fine silks on the walls?” 

Gault smiled. “Well, now that you mention it…” he held his hands up to show that he was mostly just teasing. “I’m just saying maybe you should consider conserving ammo and installing seats with upholstery.” 

“I’ll take it under advisement,” she laughed. “Couldn’t hurt to install more comfortable seating.” 

“I can recommend some folks who keep a good selection of ‘before market’ parts. So’s to not strain your budget.” He sighed and looked around the room. “We can’t all be fabulously wealthy criminal masterminds, but this bounty hunting gig seems straightforward enough.” He smiled. “Besides, I like the idea of doing the chasing for a change, even if I _am_ slumming it.” 

“We’ll see about brightening up the decor, honeybunches.”

“I’d appreciate that Princess.” 

She lead Gault upstairs to show him the cockpit and holoterminal, pausing at the top of the stairs to holler, “Mako, get up here a minute.” 

Mako clambered up the stairs. “You two are back.” 

“You knew that, we weren’t quiet.” 

“And Tyresius is still alive. Guess you two are bonding, huh?” Mako raised an eyebrow. 

“The name’s _Gault_ , remember. Gault Rennow and yes, we’re getting along famously,” Gault said, folding his arms over his chest. 

Mako looked at Hrafnhar. “Is that so?” 

“He’s actually pretty good company when he’s not trying to bail.” Hrafnhar shrugged. “This should all work out nicely.” 

Mako rolled her eyes. “I’ve had enough of scorching heat and sand. What say we check out our next target?” 

“Let me phone mom and we should be good to go.” Hrafnhar moved to the holoterminal and called Lek. She smiled at his hologram. “Tyresius Lokai is dead.” 

“I’ll believe it when I scan it…” Lek waited for her to forward the bioscan from the corpse. “Huh, what do you know? The body’s bioscan matches. You just made a lot of crime bosses _very_ happy. I’ve got a positive on the rival kill as well.” He cleared his throat and tucked away his datapad. “Credit for Tyresius Lokai goes to you. Stay hungry, hunter.” 

The terminal went dark and Hrafnhar stretched. “Speaking of hungry, I could eat a fucking bantha.” She plugged in the coordinates for Alderaan and headed downstairs to get something to eat, bumping into Mako on the way. 

“Something on your mind?” she asked, grabbing a piece of jerky. 

Mako nodded. “Been talking to some people. One of my contacts just had some guy on Nar Shaddaa asking about me.” 

“Sounds like a problem,” Hrafnhar asked. “Unless it’s an old fuck buddy trying to worm his way back into your sheets. In which case I’ll kill him if the advances are unwelcome.” 

“Cute.” Mako shook her head. “I don’t _have_ old ‘fuck buddies’. I’ve never even had a boyfriend. My contact says the guy practically screams _spook_. He’s asking about my _whereabouts_.” 

“I could shoot him anyway.” 

“Hear any objections?” Mako paused for a moment. “Me neither. He goes by the name of Cateri, the spook, not my contact. I think we have time to pay him a visit, don’t you?” 

“Better safe than sorry. We _really_ don’t need a spook sniffing around while we’re dealing with the Great Hunt. Where is he?” 

“Nar Shaddaa, like I said.” 

“We’ll head there next,” Hrafnhar promised. “Alderaan’ll keep.” 


	7. This Bitch Is Frigid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar and Gault take Alderaan by storm

Nar Shaddaa glittered like the spark in a con man’s eye. And, now that she was living with Gault, Hrafnhar could say it was an exact match. She gave Gault some credits from his own bounty and set him to furniture shopping to make _The Varactyl’s Nipples_ a little more hospitable while she and Mako headed to the promenade. 

“Aren’t you worried he’ll just run away?” Mako asked as they boarded the taxi. 

“Consider it a test run,” Hrafnhar said with a shrug. “Gault’s chance to prove himself.” 

“It feels like a mistake.” 

“Doesn’t it?” Hrafnhar gave Mako a thin smile. “As long as he doesn’t steal the whole ship I’ll be happy.” 

Mako nodded her agreement. “I appreciate you helping with this.” 

“We’ve gotta make it fast, my rival’s already on Alderaan probably and I hate playing catch up.” 

Once they were on the promenade, Mako seemed to know where she was going and Hrafnhar tagged along mostly as muscle. They ended up in the Slippery Slopes cantina and Hrafnhar wondered if Mako was going to be alright. Anuli had died here and not long ago.

Mako, however, kept her eyes dead ahead and walked right up to a rotund human male at the bar. 

“Coral,” Cateri said as he unfolded from the bar. “Well, this is a surprise. Never thought you would just turn yourself in.” 

“Okay,” Mako looked equal parts confused and annoyed. “First thing? My name’s not _Coral_. Second, what are you talking about?”

“Right,” scoffed Cateri. “Of course not. I suppose you’re just here for a _friendly chat,_ then?” 

“I could shoot him,” Hrafnhar offered. “You can even pick where.” 

“That’s tempting,” Mako agreed. “Just try not to make a mess.” 

“I can imagine what she’s told you, hunter, but you’re being played. She’s anything but a helpless little girl.” 

“Clearly,” Hrafnhar snorted. “I don’t hang out with liabilities and I still think you’ve got the wrong chick for whatever you’re looking for.”

“Assuming I buy that,” he said in a tone that implied he was going to do anything but. “What do you want me to do?” 

“Hey, I’ve got an idea.” Mako rolled her eyes, her tone mock-playful. “Maybe you could tell me who _Coral_ is, and who sent you.” 

Cateri looked at Mako and then looked at Hrafnhar, eyes slipping down to her blasters. “Let’s keep this short, shall we? I don’t want anyone seeing us and reporting this. And I’m not stupid enough to draw on you.” 

Which was almost a pity. Hrafnhar could have used the chance to show off. It wasn’t every day she got to play badass to Mako’s damsel-in-distress. 

“Here’s everything I was given on my target. Take it and go.” He handed a datapad to Mako. 

Mako looked over it. “Datapad’s encrypted. See if I can crack it later. This thing…” she pulled up a picture of a girl who could have her own twin, hair styled differently. “She… really does look like me, huh?” 

Hrafnhar nodded. “Like _twins_. Could this be the long lost family you’ve been searching for?”

“Maybe it is…” Mako’s smile dimmed, not with misery but with thoughtfulness. “I’ll see what I can find out. Guess I have plenty to keep me busy for a while. We should get going.” 

“He leaves first,” Hrafnhar pointed at Cateri. “I’m not giving him the chance to shoot you in the spine on the way out.” 

Cateri left and Hrafnhar and Mako went out the other entrance, moving quickly in case he changed his mind about shooting them. They reached the spaceport and found Gault waiting for them.

“You’re back sooner than expected, peaches,” Gault said, continuing with the nicknames. “I’m still waiting on a few pieces.” 

“We can hang out a little longer.” 

Mako headed inside. 

Hrafnhar leaned against the landing gear. “So, what’d you get?” 

“A new bed for me, new bed for you, new chairs and a real table for the dining area, you can’t expect me to eat off of an ammo crate.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. “And with so few credits. You have a silver fucking tongue.” 

“You’ll come to love its uses.” 

Hrafnhar laughed. “I look forward to it.” 

The new furniture arrived and got set up, Gault tipped the workers decently and followed Hrafnhar onto the ship. 

“Where to next?” He asked. 

“Alderaan, pity you already used the Star of Aldera, right?” 

Gault laughed. “I have seven of them.” 

“You’re my fucking hero.”

Back on _The Varactly’s_ Gault took in his new bedroom. “Ah, it’s good to relax. This is as close as I’m getting to it these days.” 

“Flying to Nar Shaddaa not relaxing enough for you?”

“Ha. That’s putting it lightly,” Gault tipped back onto his new mattress. “I’m going nuts here.” 

Hrafnhar raised an eyebrow. 

“I’ve spent so long keeping one step ahead of somebody, I can’t believe I’ve lost them for good. At least when I’m out with you, I’ll know where the blaster fire’s coming from. Should keep my mind off of trouble. Mostly.” 

“I had no clue you were having this much trouble adjusting, you’ve seemed fine.” 

Gault flashed her a little smile. “I’m talented. Spend thirty years doing what you’re doing and you’ll know what I’m talking about.” 

“You’ve been on the run for _thirty stardamn years_?” Hrafnhar’s jaw dropped open. She knew that other races matured more slowly and lived longer than the chiss, but _thirty years_ doing _anything_ , much less fleeing for your life, seemed like an eternity. She was only seventeen. She’d left home three years prior. She’d been an adult for seven now. Seventeen years seemed like a drop in the well of Gault’s vast experience. 

“Things weren’t so bad,” Gault said with a shrug. “Until people finally realized that the same guy was responsible for most of their woes. _And_ I’ve made some enemies over the years, believe me. Two and a half-dozen Hutt families, the entire Corellian Exchange…” he mused. “And there was that whole _blockade_ incident that ran the Mandalorians home with their tails between their legs.” He shook his head. “Come on, I think I’ve had my fill of all this cheering up.” 

Hrafnhar gave an understanding nod and headed for the fresher.

* * *

“I’ve always heard how beautiful Alderaan’s supposed to be.” Mako said, coming into the cockpit with a bowl of cereal. “Figures I’m going to see it in the middle of a war. At least it’ll still be pretty in the holos.” 

“When we win the Great Hunt, we’re going on vacation,” Hrafnhar promised. “We’ll find an even prettier planet or one of those exorbitant resorts on fucking Nar Shaddaa. Full spa service.” Hrafnhar turned her head and stole the bite on Mako’s spoon. 

Mako gave a heavy sigh and shook her head, still smiling. “We could use some R &R, that’s for sure.” She set her bowl down and headed for the holoterminal. “Time to find out who’s standing between us and a week on the beach.” 

Hrafnhar joined her up at the terminal and put in the call to Crysta. 

“Welcome to Alderaan, hunter.” Crysta said as she appeared. It felt like a canned recording, which was fine. “Former tourist capital of the core worlds. Your target here’s a nobleman nicknamed ‘The Durasteel Duke’ on account of his knack for stayin’ alive. Over a thousand assassins have come and gone tryin’ to put the duke the bed, but he ain’t met you yet, right? He was last seen with House Girard, they’re guests of House Thul, so that’s a good place to start looking. Good luck.” 

Mako frowned a little bit and headed back into the cockpit to collect her cereal. “Figures she’d gloss over the details. Lucky for _you_ , I’m on the job.” 

“My hero.” Hrafnhar teased fondly. “What’ve you got?”

“In a nutshell,” Mako said after she’d swallowed a bite. “When the queen of Alderaan died a few years ago, the head of the military declared himself king.” She took another bite, chewed and swallowed. “That didn’t go over so well, now the three largest houses are fighting over the crown.” 

“So everyone’s waving their dicks around. Who could have guessed?”

“A lot of people didn’t. Bouris Ulgo was a Republic war hero. House Organa and House Thul are Ulgo’s only real opposition, but they’re at each _other’s_ throats too. Basically, Organa wants Alderaan back in the Republic, and Thul came back from exile with the help of the Empire.” She took another bite, watching Hrafnhar’s face. “You getting all this?” 

“Mostly I’m impressed you’re able to keep it all straight while eating. I think most people would need a chart.” 

“This is kinda old news,” Mako shrugged, looking pleased with herself. “I had plenty of time to read up on the flight here.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. 

“Oh, one last thing. The nobles of Alderaan are _different_. They think they’re untouchable, and they won’t be impressed no matter how big a gun you wave around.” 

“So take Gault?” 

Mako pursed her lips. “What am _I_ supposed to do then?” 

“See the sights? Focus on cracking that datapad? Eat the last of the cereal to teach me a lesson.” Hrafnhar beamed. “You’re a treasure but having tech and intel hang back makes the most sense.” 

“I _guess_ ,” Mako complained. 

“Gault’s glistening silver tongue might be able to get me out of excess trouble.” 

Hrafnhar gave Mako a pat on the shoulder and swung downstairs. Gault had wasted no time make his room more comfortable than everyone else's, Hrafnhar knocked on the open door. “Come on, we’ve got a date with some nobs.” 

Gault grabbed his rifle without any bitching and she wondered if he was serious about the thought that running around with her would be soothing. 

They left the ship and exited into Alderaan’s crisp, mountain air. Hrafnhar shivered a little, not from cold but from familiarity. Her home on Csaplar had been backed up against the mountains. She didn’t like _thinking_ about home. Not home. Where she was born. 

“You alright, tiger?” Gault asked. 

“I hate snow.” 

“An unusual preference for a Chiss.” 

She shrugged. “Why do you think I bailed?” 

“I’ve been cooking up a series of romantic explanations. I’ll let you know when I decide on which one’s my favorite.” 

Given Gault’s life-long career choice, Hrafnhar suspected his cold read skills were plenty sharp. And she really wasn’t sure she liked that. She didn’t need anyone dredging her past up. 

They took the speeder to House Girard, focused on the road and not on the architecture. It was all very pretty when Hrafnhar looked up at it, but it wasn’t _the job_. 

From the moment she and Gault entered the party, they were met with derision. It made more sense from Alderaanian nobles than it did from Imperial nobles because there wasn’t a treaty between the Ascendancy and Alderaan like there was with the Empire. It was _still_ annoying. 

“My my,” the younger lord looked her up and down with hungry eyes. “What have we here?” 

Hrafnhar gave him a flirty smile, hoping to move things along more quickly. “A very _thirsty_ woman,” she said, letting the double meaning hang in the air. 

“Johrian whiskey? You strike me as a lady who likes something with a little _bite_.” 

“Oh,” she chuckled. “I do.” 

“Stop encouraging her, Raffid,” snapped the older, bearded man. “You need no more opportunities to drag our family’s name though the mud.

With _that_ , Hrafnhar was tempted to actually sleep with Raffid, if only to help drag the family name through the mud. Because fuck this guy.

“You must leave,” said the old man. “Now. And use the servant’s exit. People would talk if they saw someone of your _ilk_ here.” 

“It’s the missing stick, isn’t it?” Hrafnhar said, shaking her head. “I tried but I just couldn’t get it wedged up my ass the way you guys can. Is there a special lube you use?” 

Raffid chuckled. 

“Do shut _up_ , Raffid, or I’ll be speaking to your father.” 

“Must you two squabble in front of our guests?” asked the woman on the old man’s other side. “You’re causing more of a stir than our visitor here.” 

“Ladies, gentlemen, please,” another voice joined the small group and a tall human in purple with a pointy goatee inserted himself into the conversation. “Return to the festivities. I will have a few words with our esteemed guest here.” 

“You in charge?” 

“You could put it that way, yes.” The stranger inclined his head. 

“You aren’t seriously considering dealing with this… _thug_?” said the old man. 

“Uncle, please,” sighed the stranger. “I have the situation well in hand. Return to the festivities. This is not a request.” 

When his uncle shuffled off, still grumbling, the stranger turned his attention more fully to Gault and Hrafnhar. 

“I believe I know why you’re here, but this is a discussion best held in private. Please wait in my office. I’ll be right with you.” He caught a servant with a tray and instructed her to lead Gault and Hrafnhar to his office to wait. 

Hrafnhar stuck her thumbs nonchalantly in her pockets as she followed the servant into the rest of the house and they were dropped off in the office. It was swank as hell. She could see credits dancing in Gault’s eyes and knew they mirrored her own. Hrafnhar, unwilling to sit on her hands and touch nothing, poured both her and Gault a drink. 

Gault clinked his glass against hers and then swallowed it down. They grinned at each other as the door opened. Hrafnhar polished off her glass and set it down with a thud. She turned and looked the stranger right in the eye. 

“I’m a bounty hunter and I’m looking for the Durasteel Duke.” 

“Right to the point, yes? I’m Baron Zacar Girard. I’m afraid the duke and his sister left House Girard some time ago, under… unpleasant circumstances.” Girard cleared his throat. “House Girard now has a vested interest in finding the duke and having him meet an _unpleasant_ end. A minor noble claims to have a lead on the duke. However, he insists on meeting in person, which I’m not willing to do. Instead,” he got a very small smile, “I will employ you.” 

“I don’t talk pretty and I’m bad at playing nice,” Hrafnhar said honestly. Those were the reasons she was now employing Gault. 

“I can’t expect you to navigate the intricacies of our society, but I _can_ give you the authority to negotiate on my behalf,” Girard said. “From this point on, you will act as House Girard’s advocate. A role of honor. Come I will walk you through the appointment ceremony.” 

Hrafnhar threw her hands into the air. “Sure, why the fuck not.” 

“Please kneel.” Girard gestured to the floor in front of him and Hrafnhar scowled a little as she lowered herself to her knees, a position she was only rarely comfortable in, and Zacar wasn’t her type. “I, Baron Zacar Girard, do hereby bequeath my voice and my seal to this proxy. Now, repeat after me: I humbly accept this honor and swear to carry my authority in a manner befitting the lord I serve.” 

“I humbly accept this honor and swear to carry my authority in a manner befitting the lord I serve.” The words rolled easily and meaninglessly off Hrafnhar’s tongue. 

“You may rise,” Girard said.

Hrafnhar popped up from the ground and worked her knees for a second. 

“Well done, there may be hope for you yet.” 

She shrugged. 

“It is customary for information to be double-encrypted in these transactions, so Lord Malfus must enter his half of the key before you take the data. I’ll let Malfus know you’ll arrive at his encampment soon.” He forwarded the coordinates. “Be on your _best_ behaviour.” 

If _best behavior_ got the job down quickly and efficiently, she was certainly going to try. 

* * *

The encampment was in the valley, where there was still some snow but it gave way in patches to green grass. She and Gault parked near the entrance to the outpost they’d been told to meet Lord Malfus in. Hrafnhar popped her neck and rolled her shoulders. Best Behavior was _hard_ but she could do it. Her posture stiffened, a call back to the bad old days. But she’d known she’d have to use those skills eventually. 

This was just… eventually. 

“Stop right where you are,” said a stuffy voice as soon as she and Gault entered the outpost. “You have no rank here.” 

The speaker was a lanky human male with an unfortunate beard and a particularly ridiculous box hat. 

“Etiquette dictates that no one below my rank is permitted within ten paces of my person without my _express_ consent.” 

“Used to be five paces,” Gault pointed out helpfully. “I suppose the war is making people jumpy.” 

“Wait,” Lord Dumbhat’s eyes widened with surprise and then narrowed with disgust. “You? You are the advocate of House Girard? Outrageous! I would not trust the likes of you to scrub my sewage, let alone deliver _vital_ correspondence.” 

The ice dripped away from Hrafnhar’s spine and she slouched to her customary position, arms crossed over her chest. _So much for best behavior_. “Are we going to work this out or _not_?” 

“ _Honor_ dictates this message must stay in my care until I give it to someone of _rank_ , not a trained thranta.” 

Well, she’d been called a rabid akk-dog before, at least thranta were bigger. 

“Look,” Malfus produced something from the couch he’d been sitting on. “I have here tokens of respect for my peers. A mission for a page. Deliver them and earn a ten-year-old’s honor. Then I can speak to you.” 

“You can’t be fu—serious.” Hrafnhar caught the swear in her teeth and swallowed it back down. 

“Too much to ask?” mocked Lord Dipshit. “This is why we don’t trust the ill bred with even tasks of _menial_ honor. If you have no honor and will not prove yourself, I have no reason to further tolerate your presence.” 

Hrafnhar scowled. “Give me the tokens so I can get this over with,” she said, navigating a minefield filled with the work fuck in all it’s beautiful adaptations. 

He handed them over, dropping them into her palm to avoid touching her. “Present the tokens to the Thul nobles at each outpost like so,” he demonstrated a little curtsy that she was not going to do. “And do not dare speak to them. If I don’t receive word from them in short order, you may consider our business _annulled._ ” He sneered. “Run along now, and mind your betters.” 

Outside, Hrafnhar threw a leg over the speeder and inhaled the crisp air that was doing nothing to improve her mood. 

“He calls these bribes?” Gault said, looking over the tokens. “I wouldn’t get out of bed for half of this.” 

Hrafnhar just nodded. The chill and the disdain mixing in her stomach like milk on the point of turning.

“That man didn’t know a thing about the chiss,” Gault said to cheer her up. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have specified ten-year-old.” 

Hrafnhar snorted a laugh. “Too fucking true. I got my first assignment when I was—” She shut her mouth. “You are way too easy to talk to.” 

“It’s a gift.” 

* * *

Given the Kiliks and the commandos Hrafnhar and Gault kept having to stop and fight through, this was not a job you’d give to a human ten year old unless you wanted them _very_ dead. A _chiss_ ten year old could do it, but chiss hit maturity at age ten. It was a whole different game between the species. 

They returned to Dumbhat before the sun had gotten around to setting and parked outside before Hrafnhar steeled herself against the tide of bullshit to come.

“All right, all right,” Dumbhat stood up from his couch, looking thoroughly displeased to see her. “You’ve done the job of a ten-year-old boy. I’ll grant you that.” 

“Everyone sends their acknowledgment of the tokens. Now the message.” 

“I said I’ve _consider_ dealing with you.” 

Hrafnhar’s back stiffened with fury. How _dare_ he jerk her around like this. Did he have any idea who she… who she _had been_ and wasn’t any longer. 

She wanted off this planet. 

“However,” Dumbhat attempted a smile, snide and disdainful, but a smile nonetheless. “I am satisfied that you can handle the trifle of delivering this message. I’ve unlocked my half of the security key. You may return to Baron Zacar appearing _somewhat_ competent.” 

“Congrats on not pissing yourself,” Hrafnhar said after the datapad was securely in her grip. 

She and Gault let the building and headed back to Baron Girard’s place as the sun fell and temperatures started to plummet. The party at the Girard estate was still in full swing. 

Tired, and still a little angry, Hrafnhar was only too happy to pass through the festivities to the quiet of the Baron’s office. 

When she arrived it looked like he was in an argument with the old man from earlier. 

“It is clear that you have plans in motion, nephew—” the old man cut himself off when he noticed Hrafnhar. “Ah, your newest lackey.” 

Hrafnhar strolled, indifferent, into the room. 

“Tell me,” the old man actually looked at her. “Did my nephew mention that he already hired a bounty hunter… and got him killed?” 

“That other bounty hunter is probably not my problem,” Hrafnhar said with an languid shrug. 

“I seem to recall Veeboo saying something similar, before you killed him.” Gault pointed out. “It’s never a bad idea to show interest in your competition. 

“Fair point.” Hrafnhar muttered. 

“If you would please excuse yourself, uncle, I have business with my advocate,” the Baron said, a little stiffly.

“I see how your brat Raffid learned to disgrace us. Advocate, _pah_.” The old man left the room and Hrafnhar rolled her eyes. 

This whole planet was bullshit. 

“You’re back without incident. I’m surprised Lord Malfus didn’t raise a stir. Insufferable man.” 

“Oh he _tried_ ,” Hrafnhar said bitterly. “But I figured socking him in the mouth would hurt my bottom line.” 

“You performed admirably. According to Malfus’s information, Duke Corwin is in negotiations with our enemy, House Organa. They’re placing messages in phony relics at House Alde’s Royal Museum for later retrieval. Duke Corwin’s placed an imposter relic in the museum recently; you’ll have to forcibly enter House Alde and find it.”

“This something I can’t just talk my way into?” 

“House Alde is a vassal House of Organa. They are at war with us as much as anyone else,” explained the Baron. “And use extreme caution. The museum holds priceless cultural treasures. Nobody wants to be responsible for destroying that heritage.”

“Can this be a tomorrow adventure?” Hrafnhar asked. “It’s dark and cold out there.” 

The Baron gave a small smile. “I would be remiss if I did not make up a room for my advocate and her companion. One of the servants will lead you there.” 

Hrafnhar and Gault were shown to a small room with two small beds and both sat down on the opposite mattresses. 

“Priceless,” Gault said. “Is something Alderaanians only use to describe things they still own. Catch my drift?” 

Hrafnhar nodded. “Can you get us in without gun play?” 

Gault smiled. “Of course I can.” 

Hrafnhar produced her holo and called Mako. “Hey, how’re things?” 

“Fine?” Mako said with a shrug. “Where are you two at?” 

“Staying the night with the Girards. Tomorrow we pay a visit to House Alde and that _should_ give us the duke.” 

“Keep me updated.” 

“Always do, kiddo.” 

* * *

After breakfast they headed to House Alde and Gault used the front door. It was really something, watching Gault fall effortlessly into the role of excited tourist who’d heard so much about the library and just had to take his wife (in this moment played by Hrafnhar) to see it. Hrafnhar, for her part, hung on his arm and tried to look like she was in love and not on the verge of hysterical laughter. 

_Of course_ they were well armed, there’s a war on! Would it be okay to bend the rules just this once? Oh, thank you. Come on honeybunches, let’s go inside. 

With _that_ they were in the library. Getting _out_ would be more interesting, but that was the part Hrafnhar got to be good at. 

The collection was beautiful and Hrafnhar passed by the boxes with actual respect for the pieces—a fact that she hadn’t expected. She wondered how much they were _actually_ worth, because _priceless_ just meant _expensive_. 

Gault passed the artifacts looking for the easiest pieces to lift in the soon-coming chaos. 

Hrafnhar eyed the guards. She had to take them all out quickly and quietly if they weren’t going to bring half the house down on them. The guards were mostly ignoring them. Hrafnhar moved. She brought her blaster up and shot a guard in the head from across the room. When the one beside her tried to grab her, Hrafnhar slipped away and broke his neck. She fired five more times, missing the last one and grateful that Gault got him in the neck before his hand could get to his comm. Hrafnhar stepped over the bodies and opened the door. 

The curator, an old human male with shaking hands turned around. “W-what is all that noise.” 

Gault’s pupils were credit signs. “Jackpot. How good are you at shooting with your hands full?” 

“Oh!” Exclaimed the curator. “Oh no, out! Please take your battles elsewhere! This museum has no strategic value.”

“I’m after a phony relic, don’t shit yourself.” 

“You must be mistaken.” the curator shook his head. “Each piece here is an irreplaceable artifact from Alderaan’s long and distinguished heritage. Some are thousands of years old. You must go before anything is damage.” 

“Look.” Hrafnhar offered a sympathetic smile. “Either you can help, and nothing gets broken. _Or_ I can blast a new fuckhole in your neck and check each relic on my own. By smashing them.” 

“I have cared for these antiquities for fifty-seven years. Every item is the genuine article. I can prove it to you. I have an integrity scanner we use for restoration work! It will only take a few minutes to scan for anomal—” he looked up at a flashing red light. “Oh no! The security cameras! They’ve spotted you. You can’t fight in here!” 

“I’d find that fake as fast as you can. Gault, give him a hand,” she said, thus greenlighting Gault’s little theft. 

Hrafnhar then turned her attention, and her missiles, to the door, setting a personal challenge to not let anyone into the museum proper. 

The door opened, and Hrafnhar loosed hell. She filled the small bottleneck with lasers and death. 

Finished, Hrafnhar walked back over to the Curator, watching Gault holding a intricately carved pyramid that fit neatly in his pocket.

“I—I’ve found something,” the curator scratched his head. “But that’s _impossible_. If this is a fake, where is the _real_ first founding memorial vaze?” 

“Dunno,” Hrafnar turned to look at the vase. “But I will be taking this one.” She picked it up. 

“Yes, yes of course. You have what you want. Now please, leave. Please?” 

“Pleasure doing business with you.” She dropped the vase without any ceremony and scavenged the datapad from within. Tucking it into a pocket, she and Gault headed back to the surface and back towards Baron Girard’s house. 

“So what’d you pinch?” she asked over the wind. 

“The morning-light gem, an intricately carved bone knife, and a pyramid used in some sort of primitive Force ritual.” 

“Oooh, fancy.” 

“I figure we split the profits fifty-fifty.” Making it possibly the most generous offer he’d ever made. 

Hrafnhar chuckled. “33% all the way around, excess goes into ship maintenance and food and shit.” 

Gault grumbled but agreed. 

They returned to Baron Girard’s in triumph. Not that he got to know about the little victory. 

They walked into drama as soon as they were through the door. The lady from earlier, ostensibly the Baron’s daughter or a close cousin, had pulled a disgusted face at a large human male. “Accept your _hand_?” she scoffed. “I’d soon thrust my fist into a thresher.” 

“I don’t understand,” the guy looked shocked. “I thought this had already been arranged, approved?” 

“Advocate.” The woman looked at Hrafnhar. “Be so kind as to remove this thing from my presence.” 

“I run errands, not security,” Hrafnhar said flatly. 

“Hmph. I suppose insolence is to be expected from one of your sparse social graces.” She turned back to her apparent suitor. “As for you, if I find you here when I return, I’ll have the cook skewer and baste you.” She stomped off. 

“Does this mean I should cancel the ceremony?” He said, staring after her. 

“Shit,” Hrafnhar replied. “Probably.” 

She continued on towards the Baron’s office. He looked up from what he was doing to offer her a thin smile. “You managed not to cause any unnecessary destruction. That merits a bonus, I think.” 

Hrafnhar, who loved credits, fought to keep only a professional amount of glee on her face. “Thanks.” 

“You’ll be certain to see more if you continue to perform with distinction.” He held out a hand and she handed over the datapad. “Let’s see what you’ve discovered. Hmm,” he frowned. “This is Organa’s house tongue. Give me a moment to parse the details.” 

Hrafnhar leaned back while the Baron read, his lips moving over someone the words. 

“Three houses…” he said at length. “Thul vassals, Ulgo vassals, House Organa. Duke Corwin isn't just allying with the Organa’s, he’s organizing an entire coalition against House Thul!” 

“That sounds _bad_ ,” Hrafnhar offered helpfully. 

“Indelicate, but accurate, and there is nothing to be done about it.” Baron Girard shook his head sadly. “My cousin is safe within the sanctuary of House Rist. If he’s under their protection, it’s little wonder _the Durasteel Duke_ always survives.” 

Hrafnhar gave him a blank look. 

“The Rists,” he explained. “Are a family of assassins who ascended into nobility through centuries of murder and sabotage. Duke Corwin is beyond our reach.” 

Hrafnhar popped her back. “No he’s not, it’s just a little more exciting that usual.” 

“You’re determined, I’ll give you that,” the Baron sounded like he very nearly admired her. “You’ll need to find Duke Corwin’s haven inside House Rist and stop whatever negotiations my cousin has underway, permanently. I’m likely sending you to your death, but if you can manage to succeed, I will have a suitable payment waiting.” 

“First thing in the morning, I’m there.” Hrafnhar said with a definitive nod. 

“Of course.” 

Hrafnhar and Gault headed back their room and flopped over onto their mattresses, Gault with _slightly_ more dignity. 

“Most people would have been more shocked that our bounty is related to the Baron.” 

“Eh,” Hrafnhar shrugged. “Noble families are always interbreeding. Don’t ask me how I know.” 

“I think I can guess.” 

“Keep it to yourself.” Hrafnhar snorted. “I don’t need anyone knowing.” 

* * *

House Rist was located on the slope of one of Alderaan’s mighty mountains. Which made it, unfortunately, fairly defensible. Hrafnhar and Gault were forced to blast their way up the seemingly endless staircase and then into the House itself, where they were forced into combat down the corridor that seemed most likely to lead to a guest wing. 

Something hot and hard hit Hrafnhar in the back, knocking her forward with a loud gasp. Gault fired behind them, dropped to a knee to better stabilize his rifle and cover Hrafnhar. 

“It’s just a graze,” she said through gritted teeth, curling one hand around Gault’s belt to grab a medpac, hoping it _was_ just a graze. 

Gault took the medpac and applied it to her back. “It’s not a graze.” Gault muttered. “That’s going to leave a mark. I thought bounty hunters wore armor.” 

Hrafnhar inhaled sharply, determined not to cry. “I wasn’t wearing any when we met.” 

“You also weren’t wearing a _shirt_ , I thought you were just showing off.” 

Hrafnhar shrugged and forced herself to standing. “I’m fine,” she exhaled. “The shield took most of it.” 

“It fried your shield. You get hit again and I have to fight my way out of here myself, no thank you.” 

They proceeded, working more carefully with Hrafnhar trying to ignore both the icy-cold medpac and the sharp burning pain beneath. 

They found the guest quarters and Gault suddenly took point. 

“What the hell?” 

“I’ve heard of Rist,” he explained. “Absolutely ruthless, and unbelievably deadly. I’d stay behind you, but that’s the direction they’ll be coming.” 

Hrafnhar, who had already been shot once in the back, glowered at the back of his head. “If you’re wrong I’m going to laugh at you.” 

The guest wing of the house was lined with traps, but if you thought ahead they weren’t impassable. The first one was a treasure chest, but no one had cleared away the last body so they knew to avoid it. The lasers and turrets were beaten by Gault helping Hrafnhar over the wall that funnelled the unfortunate straight into the trap so she could deactivate both. Gault knew how to avoid cameras and guided Hrafnhar through the short maze the cameras had made. 

Traps overcome, they found a holoterminal. Tentatively, Hrafnhar investigated. 

“Keep your blaster handy,” Gault said in a low voice. “I smell a trap.” 

Hrafnhar agreed. She touched the terminal and it flared to life. “I’m afraid you’re too late,” said a man in House Rist’s colors, a stupid hat and a tiny pointy beard that was the only bit of facial hair he owned. “Duke Corwin took his leave of House Rist on a shuttle just moments ago, rather hastily, I might add.” He shook his head. “So hastily he neglected to pay me. A rather gauche breach of etiquette and… unwise.” 

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. 

“I need to know where he went.” 

“Had I spoken with him,” said the Rist representative. “Rest assured I would not be complaining of unpaid dues. Still, it’s odd to see Duke Corwin panic.” He shrugged. “Regardless, congratulations are in order for surviving this long. It’s more than could be said for the last bounty hunter to stalk our dear duke.” 

Maybe the dead guy was her rival. 

“I just like living too much to quit it over a few traps.” 

“You have a sense of humor. It would be a shame to extinguish it.” He folded his hands behind his back and stood a little straighter. “I’m going to make you and offer, and I’m only going to make it once. House Rist has been contracted to eliminate Baron Zacar Girard and all the House Girard’s leadership. We’d like to commission you to carry out these assassinations on our behalf.” 

Hrafnhar thought about Mako. 

_We’re different, right?_ She’d asked. 

_We’re different,._ Hrafnhar thought. 

“If I shoot an employer it sets a bad precedent, I’m not willing to risk the hit to my rep.” 

“Hardly,” he answered smoothly. “Wait until after you’ve collected Baron Zacar’s bounty on the Durasteel Duke _before_ you destroy House Girard. There’s no rush.” He smiled a little. “House Rist has no further obligation to Duke Corwin. Agree to the contract, you can go in peace.” 

“It’s a good deal,” Gault muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “Let’s take it and scram before anyone else tries to put holes in us.” 

“It’s a simple decision, really. Death, or profit?”

Hrafnhar thought about it. On one hand there was the careful reputation she had built and maintained for three years. On the other hand were credits and the promise of not having to fight her way out of the whole compound with her shield down and her back injured. 

Wait, she stopped. She was going about this all wrong. 

“I assume this job is strictly off the record, to protect House Rist’s rep?” 

The Rist representative nodded. 

“I’ll do it then.” 

He smiled. “Have a pleasant day. You’re free to go.” 

Hrafnhar was silent until she and Gault were both mounted up on the speeder. 

“So, how do you feel about turning on your employer for profit?” Gault asked curiously. 

“I didn’t,” Hrafnhar shrugged. “An unofficial job has no bearing on my reputation, killing an employer, even once the job is done, does. Rist might come after me later, but I’d rather fight them on _my_ terms.” 

“Playing both sides, generally… I like it.” 

“They _said_ there’s no rush. We’ve got plenty of time for a dramatic getaway.” 

Her pocket buzzed and she pulled over to check her comm. 

“Advocate,” said Baron Girard through some static that she couldn’t account for. “Are you there? Damn this blasted thing! Can you hear me? I have news.” 

“I hear you,” Hrafnhar said.

“I don’t dare discuss the details on an insecure channel. Please return to House Girard as soon as possible.” 

Hrafnhar nodded and tucked her comm away, high-tailing it back.

* * *

Hrafnhar let herself and Gault into the office.

The Baron looked up from his work and nodded to her. “I apologize for recalling you here, but I couldn’t risk my cousin catching wind of this discussion. If his retreat from House Rist is any indication, the Durasteel Duke is already running scared, and I’d like him to stay right where he is.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. 

“It may not be our goal, but crippling House Rist is worth noting. Consider this payment for supporting the Thul war effort.” 

“They’re not out of the picture yet,” Hrafnhar said, happily taking the credits. “They think I’m going to off you when this job is over. I _won’t_ because it’s bad for my rep, but once they figure it out they’ll try and off you themselves.” 

“Hmm,” hummed the Baron. “Thank you for the warning, but I don’t think Rist is in any position to strike after your actions.” 

A commotion by the door attracted everyone’s attention and Hrafnhar watched as an older, taller, noble shoved Raffid into the room. 

“What’s the meaning of this?” demanded the Baron. 

“I just caught this little rake of yours in a dalliance with my wife!” said the older noble. 

“More like you caught your wife in a dalliance with _me_ ,” scoffed Raffid without a scrap of remorse or guilt. 

“Unless you want half of House Thul questioning why we continue to keep you riffraff here, you’ll grant me that winter haven of yours.” 

Hrafnhar looked to the Baron, privately considering that, while politics were bullshit when you were in them, they were at least fun to watch.

“My grandfather’s estate?” Scoffed the Baron. “Are you mad? That’s half of my family’s lands. Advocate, kill this petty extortionist and I’ll double what I just gave you.” 

Hrafnhar considered. Mako wouldn’t like it, but Mako wasn’t here. Jobs took contracts and planning, but she _had_ accepted the role of Advocate. And she did love money. 

“Alright,” she said with a shrug, pulling her blaster and shooting the other noble dead. “I am acting as your advocate until I find the Duke I guess.” 

“Worth every last credit.” The Baron looked at the corpse. “Thank you, advocate.” He turned to his son. “Raffid, you’re confined to your chambers _indefinitely_. Hope I do not keep you there for the rest of your natural life.” He pointed at the door. “Now get out.” 

“My life or yours, Father?” muttered Raffid as he passed. 

“As I was saying,” the Baron said, refocusing his attentions on Hrafnhar and Gault. “With House Rist unable to protect him, I have no doubt that Duke Corwin is seeking asylum with the Organas.”

“Makes sense,” Hrafnhar agreed. 

“Thul scouts reported spotting a civilian shuttle headed into Organa territory shortly after you breached House Rist’s compound.” The Baron adopted a cruel smile. “There’s nowhere left for my cousin to run. Go kick down House Organa’s doors and give them hell. Expect a bonus for any additional Organa casualties.” 

“You got it, boss.” Hrafnhar threw a lazy salute and left the house. 

“You know,” Gault said as they mounted up the speeder. “You’re pretty quick to sniff out an opportunity for profit.” 

“I do my best,” Hrafnhar said with a small grin. 

“Oh, there’s no doubt about that. I wonder how much more lucrative our little partnership could be if you applied that intuition to something other than bounty hunting.”

“You had me at lucrative.” 

Gault smiled at her. “Can’t afford to keep all your chips at the same table, am I right? Let me see if I can come up with something that’ll play to your strengths and I’ll trust _you_ to recognize a good opportunity when you see one.” 

“I like that, keep me posted about the shit that goes on in your devious little head.” 

They made their way past House Alde and a little closer to Rist than Hrafnhar would have liked before they headed up a different mountain slope to House Organa. They fought their way through the castle until they found the medical bay, figuring it was as good a place as any to start their more thorough search for the Duke. 

“It’s her!” A tinny voice shouted. Every guard in the room moved. “She’s here! Stop her!” 

Hrafnhar ignited her jetpack and soared about the guards, peppering them with blaster fire while Gault shot the people trying to escape her wrath. She hit the ground and held her blasters up, waiting for more before she ascended the steps to finally confront the duke. 

She hacked the security door and held both blasters ready, waiting for trouble. 

The duke shouted into a comm. “Vala! Help! Someone is trying to kill me! Vala!” 

“Drop it,” Hrafnhar growled. 

The Duke obeyed, turning around and holding his hands up. “Wait! Don’t shoot! I’m not who you think I am! Look!” he began to shimmer and changed into a woman before Hrafnhar’s eyes. “See?”

“Where’s the fucking Duke?” Hrafnhar demanded, her blaster level with the woman’s throat. 

“I… I…” 

“It’s okay Muriel, there is no point maintaining this farce any longer.” Hrafnhar chanced a glance over her shoulder and watched a couple of armed guards and a woman in a long white dress enter the room. 

“Looks like the calvary finally arrived,” Gault muttered out of the corner of his mouth. 

“Don’t be alarmed,” the woman in white said. “This is a misunderstanding. I’m sure we can reach an agreement without further bloodshed.” 

“I’m listening,” Hrafnhar said, not really wanting to deal with the guards that now had her and Gault surrounded.

“The impersonator you’ve been chasing is Lady Muriel Corwin, the duke’s sister. If you want to see the duke, you need only look there.” She gestured with her thumb to a floating figure in a kolto tank. “The real Duke Corwin died almost a month ago while visiting to negotiate a treaty. Even using kolto suspension, our attempts to revive him have ultimately failed. All we’ve managed to do is delay his bodily death.” 

“Okay. Hand him over.” 

“Since you’re more than capable of taking Duke Corwin from us, we won’t resist under two conditions. Leave peacefully, and speak nothing of this deception to anyone.” 

“Hmm,” Gault hummed. “Free money or blood money. Life’s always full of tough decisions.” 

They were easy enough terms. “She,” Hrafnhar pointed at Muriel. “Has to stop pretending to be her brother, I have a reputation to uphold.” 

The woman in white nodded her agreement. 

“Then we have a deal.” 

Hrafnhar took the body from the tank and shot it twice in the chest before hefting it onto her shoulders and heading back out to the speeder. 

“I love negotiating with the upper hand,” Gault mused as he settled on the back of the speeder. “Let’s get him back before he starts to smell.” 

They returned to House Girard a little after the sun had sunk. Baron Zacar smiled to see them. “My men saw the body when you parked. It’s a relief to have this business dealt with.” He forwarded the credits. “I’ll be more cautious once you leave, Rist will have to actually work if they want to kill me.” 

“Good luck with that. From here on out you need a different advocate.” 

“More’s the pity, you behaved exemplary.”

“Glad to hear it. See you around.” 

She and Gault returned to the Spaceport in the dark and Hrafnhar announced her presence back on _The Varactyl’s Nipples_ by hollering to ask if Mako was still awake. Mako stuck her head out of her door. “Yes.” 

“Good, I’m turning in the bounty to Lek if you wanna watch.”

Mako disappeared and then reappeared to follow Hrafnhar up to the holoterminal to call in the Bounty. 

Hrafnhar called Lek, looking altogether a little smug. “Have a bioscan.” 

Lek checked the data, a small smile trying to fight its way onto his mouth. “The Durasteel Duke, confirmed. Guess he wasn’t blasterproof after all.” 

“I didn’t see hide or hair of my damn rival,” Hrafnhar said, folding her arms over her chest. “Do I have to go look for them?” 

Lek shook his head. “It’s been confirmed that Iri-Do Sahn was disqualified in his sleep weeks ago.” He shrugged. “Guess he got sloppy. Welcome to the final round, hunter. Contact your handler when you’re ready to proceed. Good hunting.” The terminal went black. 

“I can’t fucking wait for more,” Hrafnhar said excitedly.

Mako turned to look at her and gave an almost nervous smile. “I know! I can’t tell if I’m excited or terrified.”

“Be excited, it’s more fun.” 

The terminal blinked. Mako turned to fiddle with it. “Looks like someone’s been trying to get through. What do you bet it’s Crysta waiting to talk our ears off?”

The man who appeared in the terminal was not Crysta. He was an older, armored man with his head mostly shaved except for a tall ponytail. 

“I know who you are, hunter,” he said seriously. “You have made an enemy of Tarro Blood.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. “True.” 

“Even now, Tarro’s comrades head to Nar Shaddaa to discuss ways to eliminate you from the Great Hunt. I am sending you the coordinates of that meeting. I do not know how long they’ll be there, so I’d suggest haste.” 

“And, assuming this checks out, who do I thank for the tip-off?” Hrafnhar asked with her hands on her hips. 

“My name is Hedarr Soongh.” 

In her periphery, Hrafnhar watched Mako’s jaw hit the deck. 

“Long ago I was a Great Hunt champion,” he continued to explain. “I with to see the integrity of the Great Hunt and our traditions preserved.” 

Another Mandalorian. 

“Tarro robbed you of your allies in this competition, it seems only fitting that you return the favor.” 

Maybe he was the good sort of Mandalorian. The mythical sort that believed in fair fucking play by almost any means necessary. Hrafnhar hadn’t really believed they existed. 

“I am itching for some payback,” she admitted, remembering that _teams_ weren’t offlimits, only other hunters. It was “dishonorable” but frankly, Tarro Blood had started it. 

“There is no finer thing than the blood of an enemy righteously slain. Go to Nar Shaddaa. Confront those who have dishonored you and my people. Show them what it means to be a true warrior.” Hedarr disconnected and Hrafnhar turned her her shocked companion. 

“Don’t wet yourself,” she advised Mako, who had not yet recovered. 

“That was _Hedarr Soongh_!” she exclaimed, refusing to rise to Hrafnhar’s taunt, or maybe she hadn’t heard it. “I can’t believe it.” 

_Biggest hunter fan this side of Geonosis, right_? 

“Think his word is worth shit?” 

“He’s a living _legend_ ,” Mako insisted. “There’s no way he’d be in cahoots with a dirtbag like Tarro Blood.” 

“Did you just say _cahoots_?” 

Mako rolled her eyes. “If Soongh wants to help us, we should seriously consider heading to those coordinates.” 

“Sounds like a plan, we seem to have a little bit of down time between each round _anyway._ And Gault can find a fence for some…”

Mako gave her a _look_. 

“Pieces,” Hrafnhar continued, looking only the littlest bit sorry. “We picked up.” 

“ _Hrafnhar_.” 

“You’re getting a cut, don’t worry.” 

“That is _not_ the part I’m worried about. You’re not supposed to be a thief,” Mako chided. 

Hrafnhar laughed a little. “Oh, I’m not, I’m just making sure Gault, who is, splits his ill-gotten gains fairly.” 

Mako frowned but seemed to sense that it was a losing battle. “Go take us to Nar Shaddaa you _reprobate_.” 


	8. A Level Playing Field

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar finally faces off against Tarro Blood

Being as this had to deal with Tarro Blood, Hrafnhar took Mako with her when they hit Nar Shaddaa. Mako was clearly in that place where she was chomping at the bit to kill someone, and deeply uncomfortable that she _wanted_ to kill _anyone_. It was a cute little paradox that she’d get over eventually. 

Hrafnhar had… never actually dealt with it. Killing people was just part of life under the Ascendancy, just about everyone who _could_ serve the navy did. 

They were waiting for the taxi when Mako brought up the datapad, Hrafnhar had to wonder if she was still unsure about Gault. Which was fair, honestly. 

Or maybe being back on Nar Shaddaa had just served as an easy segue into it. 

“That guy, Cateri? Remember him? Doesn’t exist.”

Hrafnhar blinked. “He’s… dead?” 

“No, no,” Mako shook her head, following Hrafnhar into the taxi. “He’s not dead. Not as far as I know, anyway. I can’t find out anything about him. Nothing!” 

“You said he was a spook. Finding a spook that doesn’t want to be found is like finding your mother in a whorehouse, unlikely and upsetting for everyone.” 

Mako wrinkled her nose at the analogy. “He was such a wimp, I sort of tossed the SIS theory out.” She sighed. “You know what’s weird? More I look at that holo of Coral… more it makes me think. If I’ve got a sister, what else’ve I got? Aunts? Uncles? Cousins? Maybe I’ve been missing family dinners my whole life.” 

Family dinners were never worth the trouble, but Hrafnhar could see how badly Mako wanted one. She gave a warm smile. “You’ve got all the chaos you can handle. You don’t need cousins mucking it up.” 

Mako frowned, disheartened. “Yeah, you’re probably right on that.” She shook her head. “Still, I’ve got to wonder, how’re they connected to SIS? It’s something I need to figure out.” 

“And I’ve got your back through it,” Hrafnhar promised. “I just don’t think you’re missing anything.”

They got out of the taxi in the Upper Industrial Sector and headed for the coordinates Soongh had given them, hands near their blasters in case it was a trap. Hrafnhar was still having a hard time believing another Mandalorian was helping her against Tarro Blood. They seemed like a pretty insular clique. In fighting? Politics maybe? 

As long as they didn’t make it her problem it wasn’t going to _be_ her problem. 

No one was there when they arrived, and Hrafnhar pulled her blaster, waiting for the trap to spring when she heard boots coming down the way they’d come in. 

It wasn’t an ambush, the stupid-haired mook from Hutta and a couple of other flunkies walked in like they were _also_ expecting a trap. It didn’t make Hrafnhar feel _wildly_ better, but she did like knowing that Blood’s idiots didn’t have an upper hand. 

“You’re the limpdicked bitch who shot Braden, aren’t you?” Hrafnhar said, blasters in both hands and pointed at the ground. 

Sedyn, the guy with the shitty haircut, looked shocked. “Wha—what are you doing here?” He shook the surprise off and cleared his throat. “Doesn’t matter. You saved us the trouble of hunting you down.” 

“Stand down, Sedyn,” Soongh said from the shadows. 

Hrafnhar turned her head to watch him emerge from the shadows. It was terribly melodramatic. 

“A matter of honor has brought all of you here today, and it shall be settled as such.” 

Sedyn didn’t seem to be picking a side, which was more than Hrafnhar had expected. 

“Commander?” asked Sedyn, looking a little more confused than Hrafnhar herself. “What’s going on?” 

Soongh narrowed his eyes, hands held peaceably in front of him. “You owe this hunter a debt of blood, Sedyn, and I would like to see at least _one_ of my pupils redeemed before I die.” 

Hrafnhar blinked. Not only was he turning against another Mandalorian, this idiot reject was a _student_?

“These idiots were yours?” Hrafnhar asked, just trying to make sure she’d gotten that right. 

“Once, perhaps.” Soongh sounded more sad about it than anything else. “Now they are cowards who embrace deceit and treachery.” 

Sedyn shook his head, apparently taking exception to that. “Tarro followed your code, Commander. He stood tall in the last Great Hunt and the others pulled him down like a pack of wild beasts. He learned from that, and this time he will take us to the top.”

Soongh shook his head, disappointed. “Tarro does this for his wounded pride alone. Why can’t you see that?” 

It was stupid, but Hrafnhar caught herself admiring the old man. The only guy in a room with his hand off his blaster and he just seemed sort of disappointed. Staring down his student and challenging him to be _better_. 

Maybe this Mandalorian was alright. 

“Maybe he just likes being taken along for the ride, easy fame and none of the hard decisions,” Hrafnhar volunteered. 

“I believe you are correct, hunter.” Soongh nodded. “A Taung blood duel will resolve this dispute. A duel to the death. Challenge Sedyn. A true Mandalorian must accept.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. “All right, Mako, sit this one out. You and me, fuckface, a Taung blood duel.” Whatever the fuck that was. 

“I accept,” Sedyn sneered. “Rellu, you’ll fight as my second.” 

“Mako,” Hrafnhar rolled her shoulders. “I guess you’re in.” 

“You’ve dug your own graves.” Sedyn pulled his blaster but Hrafnhar closed. She kneed him right in the armored cup and elbowed him in the face when he instinctively doubled over. She trusted Mako to keep Rellu busy while she grappled Sedyn, reaching up to tear out his cybernetics while he tried to get her in a hold to break her arm. He shot her once in the leg, screaming as she tore machinery out of his neck and collapsing to the ground, trying to cover the open wound. Hrafnhar shot him in the face and then turned to where Mako had sustained a few burns but Rellu was dead. 

“That was for Braden,” Mako muttered hatefully. “Your boss is next.” 

Hrafnhar looked to Soongh. 

“Well fought, Hunter,” praised Soongh. “I see in you the future of my people.” 

Hrafnhar’s skin flushed warmer with a pleased blush. “I… thank you,” she tripped uncharacteristically over the words. 

There was something about an old teacher taking pride in her. Something that made her feel like those early days before Hoth. When being with the Ascendancy was _good_. She swallowed, uncomfortable.

“I merely speak the truth.” He turned to the other flunkies. “This matter is settled. The rest of you shall allow this hunter to finish the Great Hunt in peace.” 

“No, Commander,” said one of the helmeted Mandalorians. “Our pledge to Tarro stands.” He pulled his blaster and shot Soongh where he stood. 

The old man hit the ground, clutching the wound in his stomach. “You are no Mandalorians…” he grunted. 

“Oh that is _fucked up_ ,” Hrafnhar snarled, planting her feet. 

“Die you—hrk!” 

Hrafnhar shot him in the throat and then blasted his companions with missiles before dropping down to see if Soongh was going to make it. 

He shook his head when she tried to offer him a medpac. “It’s fitting that I die here, surrounded by my failures.” He looked up at her. “Tarro mustn’t win the Great Hunt. Don’t let his example lead others down the easy path. Keep honor alive among my people… show them that the old traditions, the code of the warrior, is worth of defending.” 

“I’m not a Mandalorian,” Hrafnhar said immediately. “What am I supposed to show anyone?” 

Soongh got a small smile. “You are more Mandalorian than you realize. Learn about the past… it will guide your future.” His smiled died. “Unless you believe in something, you will become an empty shell… or a rabid dog. In the end, all you have is your dignity.” He took one last breath, and was still. 

Hrafnhar straighten back to standing, shaken to her core.

“Tarro isn’t worthy of such a great teacher. Not by a long shot.” Mako gave Soongh a miserable look before her eyes hardened and she looked back at Hrafnhar. “If we ever see him again, I’ll tell him that before you blast him.” 

“You will have to speak real fucking fast,” Hrafnhar promised. “I don’t know how Mandalorians honor their dead.” 

Mako shrugged. “I’ll call in and let… someone… know what happened.”

“We should get back to the ship,” Hrafnhar said softly. “Come on.” 

* * *

Things were quiet aboard _The Varactyl’s_ for a good hour while they left Nar Shaddaa. Hrafnhar spent a lot of it replaying what Soongh had said. All her assumptions about the Mandalorians felt… childish. Wrong. 

Sedyn’s men had acted _dishonorably_ and that _mattered_. She frowned. 

It had always mattered on some level. She hated it when people didn’t play fair. 

Soongh had been wronged, and so it stood to reason that he should be avenged. But why did she feel like it was her job? It should have been the job of another Mandalorian. 

But she was going to do it anyway. She wouldn’t let Tarro “The Easy Road” Blood get away with his banthashit. 

But first, this was a lot of feelings and she needed a beer. 

“Hey,” Mako said, catching her while she was in the galley getting that beer. “We should probably get back to Crysta now that we don’t have to worry about Tarro’s cronies messing up the final round.” 

Hrafnhar nodded and headed towards the holoterminal. “I am going cut off Tarro Blood’s dick, use the blood as lubricant and ram it so far down his eye socket that the tip comes out the back of his skull, it gets stuck there, and his mother will have to see it at the funeral.” 

“Vivid,” Mako said with a small smile. “You sure you’re alright?” 

“I’m fine, just thinking about Soongh.” She reached the holoterminal and called Crysta. 

Crysta was all smiles when her holo appeared. She beamed down at Hrafnhar. “Well, lookie here! I got myself a hunter who’s reached the last leg of the Great Hunt. Ain’t I just a lucky gal. You’ve made this all look so easy, how about something _serious_ for your final mark?” 

“Bring it on,” Hrafnhar said. 

“You’re ready for this, sugar? You’re hunting Jedi Master Kellian Jarro, the ‘Mandalorian Killer’ himself.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. Jarro was a big name in the last war and she’d had to study it. He got the nickname for frying/stabbing about a hundred Mandalorians. No easy feat. 

“Nice,” Hrafnhar said with a nod. “Should be exciting.” 

“This fella’s no slouch, that’s for sure.” Crysta gave a little grin. “Word is he’s on board the Republic cruiser _Aurora_ , so that’s where you’re headed next. You gotta take out Jarro and the _Aurora_ to finish this hunt.” 

“That sounds irresponsible and dangerous. I’m loving it.” She saw Gault frown out of the corner of her eye. 

“Once you’re aboard the _Aurora_ ,” Crysta explained. “You’ll need to blast her hyperdrive regulator in the engine room.” 

Which would leave the ship unprotected from the natural forces in hyperspace. 

“Then head to the bridge and set the ship to jump into hyperdrive on a timer. When it does, _boom_! No more ship.” 

“I can do that.” 

“Hope so. Personally, I wouldn’t wanna try it myself.” Crysta’s smile got wide and sneaky. “Now, that’s all I _oughta_ tell you,” she winked, “but I wrangled some, uh, _confidential_ information. One other hunter made it to the final round, and he’s already headed to the _Aurora_. Care to guess who?” 

“Tarro Blood!” Mako exclaimed. “That slimy son of a—” she cut herself off. 

“You’re allowed to swear,” Hrafnhar reminded her. 

“That _fucking son of a bitch_ ,” Mako finished. “He’s gotten away with Braden’s murder _way_ too long. He needs to pay.” 

“Two for one special up in this bitch,” Hrafnhar agreed. “The Great Hunt and Blood in one neat little package.” 

Gault exhaled. “Okay. Tarro Blood deserves a rather gruesome end, I get that. But are we _really_ going to fight a Jedi Master?” 

“You can stay with the ship,” Hrafnhar offered. “This is pretty fucking personal for Mako though.” 

“I’ll transmit the _Aurora’s_ coordinates,” Crysta said. “Best of luck.” 

With the message over, Hrafnhar finally cracked open her beer while Mako went off to plug the coordinates in. 

“How long’ve we got?” Hrafnhar hollered. 

“About an hour and a half at our fastest.” 

“Sweet.” 

“Before you go, there’s something we should discuss,” Gault said, gesturing for her to follow him. “Let’s speak in my office.” 

They entered his room and Hrafnhar leaned against the wall while Gault settled on the comfortable mattress. He steepled his fingers together, very businesslike. “I’ve been thinking it over and I see a _lot_ of room for improvement maximizing your profits. Take catching me, for example.” He gestured to himself for emphasis. “Sure, you got a nice bounty from the Great Hunt, but why stop there? You just need to use a little imagination.” 

“Like what? Hawking your corpse?” 

Gault laughed. “ _Actually_ … ” 

“What, seriously?” 

“A few words in the right ears and you could make a lot of money on poor Tyresius’s remains. If you don’t mind double-crossing crime lords.” 

“Which I only mind if it comes back to bite me, I am a reputable business woman after all.” 

“It won’t,” Gault assured her, and she felt like a fool for probably believing him. “Offer the body, see who bites, rob them blind. Couldn’t be simpler.” 

“That’s unusually straightforward.” 

“It’s not the most _elaborate_ con, but you’re new at this. Besides,” he gave her an appraising look. “The scams are a lot less risky when you know you can vaporize anyone in the room.” 

“You be the pretty face I bring the pain?” 

“A woman after my own heart.” 

“Keep thinking about it, when I win the Great Hunt we’ll revisit it.” 

* * *

The _Aurora_ was huge, but what did one expect from a Republic cruiser. Hrafhnar exhaled. She’d actually pulled on an old breastplate this time. Being mass produced and in her “size” it wasn’t _comfortable_ but combined with her personal shield it did the trick. She wasn’t taking any chances with a jedi. 

“There she is,” Mako breathed. “The _Aurora_. Pretty impressive. Don’t think they’ve detected us yet.” 

“Let’s try and keep it that way,” Hrafnhar said, leaning over Mako’s seat in the cockpit.

“Let me see what I can pick up on their comms.” Mako listened. “Oh boy, the ship’s on high alert. They captured an intruder, they’re calling it an Imperial assassination attempt on the Jedi master.” 

“See kids,” Hrafnhar wished she could roll her eyes. “This is why you don’t cheat in this sort of competition, because you’ll flub it at the last minute. Fucking amatuer.” 

“Makes you wonder how he got this—” the ship rocked in the middle of Mako’s sentence. “What the—we’ve been caught in a tractor beam!” 

“ _Attention unidentified vessel,”_ boomed a voice. “ _This is the Republic cruiser Aurora. You are in a restricted zone. Prepare to be brought aboard for a full inspection. If you offer any resistance, we will open fire._ ” 

Hrafnhar grinned. 

“Well,” Mako looked up at her. “What now?” 

“Kind of them to invite us aboard. Refusing would be _rude_.”

“And we don’t even have to park,” Gault said with a little chuckle. “They’re really making it easy for us.” 

“Good point,” Mako conceded. “Maybe if we ask real nice, they’ll even take us right to Master Kellian Jarro. And Tarro too.” 

Hrafnhar checked her blaster. “Wouldn’t that be nice.” 

She exited the ship first, hands down but holding her blasters. No one was talking their way out of anything this time. 

“Halt!” said the captain. “You are under arrest. Lay down your weapons.” 

Hrafnhar’s red eyes glowed in the dim light of the hangar. “I don’t think so.” She shot him dead and turned the blasters on his lackies, sending them after him. When the hangar was cleared, the poor bastards unprepared for immediate confrontation, Hrafnhar stuck her head back into the _Vractyl’s_. “Come on Mako,” she beamed. “Time to win.” 

“Did you have to kill them all?” 

“Yes. Yes I did.” 

With Mako on her heels and Gault keeping the captain’s seat warm on the _Vractyl’s Nipples_ , Hrafnhar proceeded into the _Aurora_. The ship was on high alert but Hrafnhar relished conflict and challenge. They were all dead anyway, the ship was going to explode. 

And she was going to _win_. 

They escaped the hangar, leaving a wide swath of bodies behind them, and Hrafnhar found and shot out the hyperdrive regulator. Then they found the elevator up to the command deck, where there were _more_ bodies. Making excellent use of cover and surprise as they occurred, Mako and Hrafnhar continued quickly, as if they were racing because there was always the _chance_ that Blood wasn’t the prisoner. 

He probably was.

But he might _not_ have been. 

Hrafnhar was, not quite privately, having the time of her _life_. Jedi were dangerous. Arguably the most dangerous thing you could hunt that wasn’t a Darth (Darths ranked higher on general temperament alone). She looped back to the hallways where the ship bottlenecked and forced the Republic troops to chase her. She stole and used grenades. 

And eventually found herself in the little prison on the command deck. 

And there, stripped to his underthings and wearing a shock collar to keep him compliant, was Tarro Blood. 

Hrafnhar _leered_ at him. How it must _sting_ to be Tarro Blood. To know all his schemes amounted to a pile of banthashit with his rival unchained on the other side of the cell door. 

She savored it. 

“So you’re still alive, eh?” Tarro Blood stood up and walked to the door. “You might be worth killing after all.” 

Hrafnhar laughed a little. 

“Hurry up and let me out of here so we can settle this once and for all.” Blood demanded. “Unless facing me as an equal _frightens_ you.” 

“I don’t know, shitdick, I’m sort of loving this view.” 

Mako snorted. 

“Of course,” Blood scoffed. “Someone like you could never _dream_ of defeating me. All you can do is ogle like some insignificant bystander. Come on, surprise me. Open the door and face me like a warrior.” 

There it was, the magic word. 

“You want me to let you out so you can die with honor? Beg for it you piece of shit.” 

“Figures,” muttered Blood. “You _are_ a lowlife.” He looked back at Hrafnhar and his will broke. “Fine! I’m begging you! I can’t die like this! Please!” 

“You don’t _deserve_ a warrior’s death, scumbag,” Mako snarled. “Let’s leave him. Let him die when the ship is ripped to pieces.” 

It was easy. It was _simple_. It was _fair_. 

Hrafnhar stared at Blood and then shook her head. “Nah. He might be a cowardly piece of banthashit that wouldn’t even make good fertilizer, but _I’m_ better than that. _I_ will face my rival head on.” 

“Yes! Stay out of this, street rat, this is between us.” 

The cell wall went down and Hrafnhar socked Tarro Blood hard in the nose. “Get your shit on you disrespectful son of a bitch. And you say one more word to Mako and I will feed you your tongue.” 

Tarro Blood scarpered and came back in his gear. “You idiot,” he mocked her. “No real hunter would’ve given up his advantage and allowed a dangerous enemy to arm himself?” 

“Soongh deserved better,” Hrafnhar said, drawing her blaster. “You’re a real stain on your people.” 

“Soongh was an old fool, and just like him, you’ll find that honor gets you nothing.” 

Tarro Blood fired. Not at Hrafnhar, but at Mako. Mako was ready and dived to the side with a short exclamation. 

“Piece of _shit_.” Hrafnar fired, his armor taking the brunt of her assault. He launched his missiles at her but Hrafnhar rushed him, ducking in close so they didn’t do him any good. Blood pulled a knife. Hrafnhar swept his legs out from under him and dropped her heel hard on the bend in his armor. He sliced her below the knee and she planted a blaster bolt between his eyes. 

“Who’s nothing now,” Hrafnhar asked with a growl. 

The corpse said nothing. 

“Fuck,” she complained. “That _smarts_.” 

Mako administered a medpac to the wound. When she’d finished she looked at the body and bowed her head. “Braden, Jory, it’s over.” 

Hrafnhar awkwardly squeezed her shoulder. “Come on, we’ve got a jedi to kill.” 

With Tarro Blood dead, it was less of a race to the bridge, though they made reasonably good time even with Hrafnhar’s leg complaining with every step.

They reached the bridge and Hrafnhar killed everyone she could as they rushed her, and proceeded to the front window where the jedi were waiting. 

That’s right folks, Jedi, two of them. 

Hrafnhar frowned, this felt even less fair than it had _originally_. She wished her breastplate was cortosis. 

“Stay behind me,” she said under her breath to Mako. “You get to play distraction fire.” 

“You’ve caused quite a bit of trouble,” Kellian Jarro said as Hrafnhar and Mako reached the viewing deck. He turned around, a younger Jedi at his side. “But I’m afraid it’s over now. I’ll ask you to drop your weapons and surrender.” 

“I think we both know that that’s not gonna fucking happen,” Hrafnhar replied. At least Jedi didn’t wear armor, they could just block blaster fire like fucking crazy. 

“Then I’ll have no choice but to subdue you.” He raised a hand and waved it slowly in front of him. “You will drop your weapons and surrender to me.” 

Hrafnhar shook her head and chuckled. She mimicked his hand motion. “You will ram a womp rat directly up your asshole.” 

“ _Hrafnhar_ ,” Mako hissed. 

“Master?” asked the smaller, younger jedi. 

“Be still, Padawan. I will take care of this. This bounty hunter has a much stronger will than the other one.” Jarro looked from his padawan back to Hrafnhar, who was on the verge of chuckling about the fact that Blood had _given himself up_. “Listen,” Jarro said. “I know the Mandalorians want me dead, but the Battle of Coruscant was years ago. Revenge profits no one. I implore you not to throw your life away. Abandon this hunt.” 

Hrafnhar raised her blaster. “We both know that’s not going to happen.” 

She fired. 

He dodged. “Thendys, your lightsaber.” 

“Mako, stay back!” 

Hrafnhar went up, taking the jedi briefly by surprise as she dropped missiles on them from over head, forcing Jarro to cover his student. Mako fired at the pair as fast as she could, forcing Jarro’s lightsaber to be occupied with defense instead of attack. 

Mako was forced to dodge the deflected bolts, and Hrafnhar hit the ground. Backpedaling as hard and fast as she could. 

Jarro leapt at her and she juked hard to the right and down so his leap took him into the window. 

She couldn’t let him close. 

The padawan tried to rush her and got a face full of carbonite spray as Hrafnhar bolted. Hrafnhar took a moment to be glad the kid was a mirialan, not a miraluka.

The screams were pained and high, but Jarro was forced back to defending his padawan as Hrafnhar continually made the younger jedi a liability. 

One lucky shot was all it took, and Hrafnhar and Mako fired enough times to get one. Jarro slumped to the ground, his lightsaber clattering out of reach. 

Hrafnhar shot the body a few times to be sure and, panting, turned her blaster on the mostly-blinded padawan. 

“Master!” screamed the padawan. “No, it’s not possible! Master!” She tilted her face up to Hrafnhar, squinted through the puffy skin and the tears. “What are you waiting for, bounty hunter? Kill me just like you killed my Master! Go on!” 

Hrafnhar stared at her. She would have felt _bad_ about shoot a half-blind teenager in the face. Particularly after schooling Blood so hard about honor. “You are a blind kid and you weren’t part of the contract. You’re free to try and bail before I blow this ship up.” 

“We’ll meet again, bounty hunter. I swear it.” Thendys, apparently, staggered to her feet and fled. 

“I’m glad you let her go,” Mako praised. “You did the right thing.” 

“And it is _one hundred percent_ going to bite me in my beautiful blue ass later.” 

“Hey,” Mako shrugged. “What’s one more enemy, right? Keeps life interesting.” 

Hrafnhar snorted a little.

“The cruiser can be set to jump into hyperspace at the bridge controls. Deactivating the tractor beam would also be a good idea.” 

“Gee,” Hrafnhar shook her head. “You think?” 

“ _Then,_ ” Mako continued, ignoring Hrafnhar. “I’d blast the control panel just to be sure no one reverses what you’ve done. Then we run!” 

* * *

Back on the ship, and a decent ways away from the _Aurora_ , Hrafnhar caught her breath. She leaned against the door and let out a loud “Whew!” 

“You did it!” Mako gave a small, gleeful jump. “I knew you would! You’re amazing!” 

Hrafnhar gave her a tired smile, trying to figure out where Mako had gotten the second wind. 

Gault tipped his head. “It was pretty impressive work, and _believe me_ , I know impressive.” 

Mako was still beaming. “You’re my _hero_ , you know that, right?” 

“I’m the girl of your dreams, babe.” Hrafnhar teased. 

Mako laughed. “Leave the booking of your public appearances to me. Gotta make sure you hit all the sleaziest spots in the galaxy.” 

“Let me see that list when you’re done with it,” Gault said seriously. “I’m sure I have a few to add.” 

In a softer voice, Mako said, “Braden would have been so proud. So would Soongh. You’re who they were talking about when they spoke of great hunters.” 

Hrafnhar gave Mako a rare, truly sincere, smile. “Thanks Mako, that means a lot.” 

It _did_ and it _shouldn’t have_. 

“I call it like I see it,” Mako shrugged. 

Gault laughed. “Did it just warm up, or is Hrafnhar blushing?” 

Hrafnhar stuck her tongue out at him, well aware that she was blushing and by doing so had raised the temperature of her usually chilly skin by a degree or two.

“We should return to the Mandalorian enclave on Dromund Kaas to _officially_ inform the Huntmaster of your victory,” Mako said. “There’ll be some sort of ceremony, Mandalorians are big on that. I’m sending them the news right now.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. “If anyone needs me before we land I will be in the fresher or un-fucking-conscious. Killing jedi is _work_.” 

* * *

Alone in her room, Hrafnhar had a rare moment of introspection. She had been wrong about the Mandalorians and in some ways wrong about herself, which was uncomfortable. Fighting with honor felt _good_. It felt better than the thrill of the chase. She liked it. 

_You are the future of my people_ , Soongh had said. 

She wasn’t, obviously. But she could fight like she was. She could keep her dirty deals with Gault but when it came to fighting, to hunting and to living, could she be… better? 

Maybe. 

Still, she thought, having had quite enough of _that_ , there was one flaw in her otherwise flawless victory. 

She wouldn’t get to see the Aristocra’s face when the news passed her desk. 

Gault knocked on the door sometime later and Hrafnhar pushed the button to open it. “Yes, sweetums?” 

Gault leered. “So, winner of the Great Hunt.” 

“So it would appear,” she tapped the chair in her room with her foot and Gault almost fell into it, slouching comfortably. “There’s got to be some angle we can use with that. Better days are coming I promise you that.” 

Hrafnhar laughed. “Better bounties, bigger paychecks. And I get to be choosy so I no longer have to do any boring jobs. But you didn’t come in here to talk about my success, did you pumpkin?” 

“In a sense, I did. That suggestion I had involving my duplicate. Turns out there are a lot of folks who’ve still got a bone to pick with the late Tyresius Lokai.” His smile was wide and his eyes were glinting. “A little friendly competition couldn’t hurt our final take. I’m thinking an auction would do the trick.” 

Hrafnhar nodded, her early struggle with morality lost in the wave of Gault’s smiling demeanor. “I can see how that would improve the take.” 

“That’s just what I wanted to hear, snuggleluff. Give me some time off the ship and I can handle the whole thing by proxy. The only finger you’ll have to lift’ll be the one accepting your credit transfer.” 

“Take care while you’re out, we’ll meet up again after my ceremony with the Huntmaster.” 

Gault chuckled. “I’ll be back before you know it.” 


	9. Mandalore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar is made a Mandalorian, and no one is more surprised than she is.

Dromund Kaas felt less wet. It wasn’t, but it _felt_ that way. Everything felt just a little brighter and Mako and Hrafnhar took the taxi to the Mandalorian enclave. Hrafnhar’s lungs felt full to bursting. _Pride_ was not an unusual emotion but rarely did it feel so _deserved_. She pictured the Aristocra’s face, the pinched little scowl and the line the old bitch used to get between her eyebrows. 

Hrafnhar hoped a picture would be included. She wanted the Aristocra to _know_ that it was her. She wanted the Aristocra to be stuck with that knowledge for the rest of her life. 

Cheers went up through the enclave as they touched down. Hrafnhar caught the word “oya!” more than once and wondered what it meant. It sounded positive.

Crysta caught her and grinned. “The hunter returns a hero! It sure is good to see you all in one piece!” Her grin passed from Hrafnhar to Mako and Hrafnhar very nearly regretted that she and Mako weren’t holding hands this time. 

“Good to see you too,” Hrafnhar said, slouching comfortably. “You’re looking pleased.” 

“I’m gonna look a whole lot better standing by your side, sugar, that’s for sure.” Crysta beamed. “The Huntmaster’s waiting for you in the main room. Go on in.” Hrafnhar turned and started to leave when Crysta spoke up again. “Oh, and hunter? Great job.” 

Hrafnhar winked and, with Mako in tow, headed into the main room.

“You’ve made quite a name for yourself in victory, hunter.” Lek said when she got close to the main room. He gave her a pleased and appraising look. “Mandalore himself requested your presence aboard his flagship. Just you. He wants to congratulate his champion personally.” 

Mako went slack jawed. “You’re getting an audience with _Mandalore_? You’ve gotta be kidding! I can hardly believe it.” 

Hrafnhar would have thought meeting the boss was standard after winning his tournament, but Mako seemed shocked and she was… honestly the one with more of a clue about this sort of thing. So maybe it was weird. Who knew?

Hrafnhar wasn’t sure what to say, she had been forced to realize that she knew nothing about Mandalorians and now the idea of meeting the guy in charge was… humbling. She didn’t like feeling humbled. “I know,” she contented herself with saying, “I might shit myself with shock.” 

Lek checked his comm and then looked back at Hrafnhar. “The Huntmaster will address you now.” He looked at Mako. “Come on, I’ll get you a good seat.” 

With Mako following Lek, Hrafnhar took a deep breath and then enter the main room. She processed, in so far as a single person can, between two rows of fully armored Mandalorian towards the Huntmaster.

The Wookie raised his arms to greet her. << You come before me again, whole and strong. You have emerged from the fire a tempered, honed, and deadly weapon. I welcome you as one worthy to fight alongside any of us. >>

Maybe it was because it was being intoned in Shyriiwook in front of a venerable horde of Mandalorians, but it felt _intense_ and when Hrafnhar answered that she was honored to be there, she meant it in an honest, personal and uncomfortable way. 

<< You have joined a rare and select group, champion. Your name will be listed alongside such legendary hunters as Soongh the Cunning, Bloodworthy, the Defenestrator, Jewl’a Nightbringer and Mandalore himself. >>

Mandalore was a hunter? She hadn’t know that. 

<< It is with great pride that I name you the Grand Champion of the Great Hunt! Mandalorians, salute Mandalore’s champion! >>

Hrafnhar expected an orderly salute, something in line with a very military culture, and instead got a thunderous applause. There were cheers in basic and Mando’a, more and a couple of enthusiastically pleased swears graced her ears as she exited the way she came in. 

Mako applauded her, grinning and bright. 

Hrafnhar worried about her face starting to hurt she was grinning so much. “We should get home,” she said. “I’ve got a date with the big man himself.” 

“Yes,” Mako agreed. “Yes you do.” 

* * *

They didn’t head for _The Spirit of Vengeance_ immediately. It was less a matter of keeping Mandalore waiting and more the practical realities of needing to wait for Gault to get back from his schemes. 

Hrafnhar was glad to have half a day to settle anyway. A lot had happened and, in acknowledgment of that, she deserved a beer, or several. 

Mako had closed herself in her room, elation giving way to relief which gave her time to truly mourn Braden and Jory. Naturally, she wanted to be alone for this and Hrafnhar, who found emotions sticky and unpleasant, was happy to tread a little more quietly and trust that Mako knew to come up for air eventually. 

She was in the cockpit, a small pile of beers at her feet, when the ship door opened and Gault swaggered into the cockpit, grinning. “What, no parade? Not even a cake? How about at least mustering a ‘good to see you’ for the guy holding your share of the credits?” 

Hrafnhar laughed. “Welcome home, babycakes, want a beer?” 

“Just this once.” 

Hrafnhar handed him the beer she had just opened and pulled out another for herself. 

“Your cut,” Gault said, transferring the credits with one hand. “Pretty good considering the expenses. The bidders really couldn’t wait to take Tyresius off our hands.” He took a drink, looking rightfully pleased with himself. 

“You’re a miracle worker,” Hrafnhar praised, toasting him with her beer and taking a drink. “Who showed up?” 

“Three pirate crews, ten free traders, two Exchange bosses, half a dozen Hutts… one I don’t even remember crossing. Kept licking his lips, think his name was Drooga.” 

Hrafnhar snorted. “He’s _the great feast master_ , think he was planning to eat you.” 

Gault shuddered. “At least I know to blame my nightmares on you.” He took another drink. “It was quite the rogue’s gallery, lots of familiar faces. Brought back memories, let me tell you.” 

“Sounds exciting. Glad you’re back.” 

Gault chuckled a little bit. “So am I.” 

“Any luck finding a fence for those pieces we pinched from the Royal museum?” Hrafnhar asked. She almost felt bad about it. Stupid honor, filling her head with dissonance. 

“I’ll find one, it’d be better if we can find a collector,” Gault said. “Quick turnaround would make a nice bonus but forfeits a bigger cut.” 

“Whatever you find works,” Hrafnhar said with a shrug. “In this very specific instance, I trust you.” 

He laughed a little and leaned back against the wall. “I think that auction put to bed and lingering doubts that Tyresius is dead and gone. And aside from knowing my new identity ought to stick, I’d almost forgotten how much I love a good scheme.” 

Hrafnhar _got_ it. A good scheme was like a good hunt. Difficult and a matter of matching your wits and talent against someone else and coming out ahead. She got it and she could admire Gault for his skill at it. 

“Can’t blame you. What’s not to love?” 

Gault slid into the seat Mako usually filled, apparently content to sit and chat for a bit. Hrafnhar put in the coordinates for _The Spirit of Vengeance_. 

“Getting shot at for one,” Gault said smoothly. “But working with you has made that pretty commonplace. It’s hard to work a proper hustle when you’re on the run, darling. I’ve pulled more heists than cons in recent memory.” He shrugged. “That was the kind of racket my former partner preferred. Simple, bold, effective.” He set his empty beer aside. “Used to argue about that a lot.” 

“And what happened to the old partner?” Hrafnhar asked. 

“We had different ideas about where we were headed.” Gault actually broke eye contact and looked away like he was guilty. 

It was probably an act but it was intriguing nonetheless. 

“Water under the bridge,” he said, clearing his throat. “My preference is to be long gone by the time anyone gets wise. That’s a lot easier without bounty hunters breathing down my neck. It’s about time I got back in the game. Can’t afford to let myself get out of practice, after all.”

Hrafnhar could, and did, drink to that.

They sat there shooting the shit until they reached the _Spirit of Vengeance_ and Hrafnhar changed into one of her nicer outfits before calling the much larger ship on the holoterminal. A feeling, almost a nervousness, buzzed in her stomach. Hrafnhar pushed it aside. Mandalore was probably just another client. Or this was just another ceremony. 

She’d done good. 

“You’ve entered Mandalorian controlled space. Vacate the sector before we use you for target practice. You have two minutes,” said the Mandalorian in charge of _The Spirit’s_ comms. 

Hrafnhar folded her arms over her chest and scowled up at him. “I was invited by Mandalore himself.” She gave him a cocky smile. “I’m the winner of the Great Hunt, shitdick.”

It was hard to tell if the Mandalorian was bristling under his helmet, but he checked her credentials and apologized, authorizing landing clearance for _The Varactyl’s Nipples_. 

“You kids wait here,” Hrafnhar said to Gault and Mako. “I’ll be back.” 

She exited the airlock and entered the hangar bay. She was met by a group of Mandalorians at the end of the hangar. “Mandalore’s waiting. This way.” 

Hrafnhar let herself be lead through the ship, but rather the heading to the command deck, she was taking to the residential quarters and a large comfortable office and lounge area. Trophies decorated the walls. 

“Mandalore,” said her guide, addressing a tall, black, human male. “Your champion presents herself.” 

Mandalore smiled, his age showing around his eyes but _only_ around his eyes. “Glad a little war wasn’t enough to keep you from meeting me, champion.” He chuckled a little. “I like a woman who’s not afraid to get her knuckles bloody. Welcome aboard the _Spirit of Vengeance_.” 

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” Hrafnhar said, trying to figure out why she was feeling awed. Maybe it was the commanding pose, so much more relaxed than the Aristocra but still very much assured and in control. 

“I’ve got a lot to thank you for. Shoring up that secret auction, avenging Hedarr Soongh, stopping that arrogant snot Tarro Blood.” He nodded. “You’ve had a good slog getting here. Says a lot that you aced Tarro Blood without stooping to his level, a damn lot.” 

Hrafnhar stood a little straighter, reminded of Soongh. “Blood was a whiny bitch and I don’t drag myself through the mud to appease infants.” She held her chin up. “I’m better than that.” 

“The Great Hunt isn’t held for the sake of sport; it’s meant to find the best the galaxy has to offer. Usually to handle a task vital to the Mando’ade. I have one more thing to ask of you before I know you’re the one for it.” 

Hrafnhar nodded, not wildly surprised. 

“There is a cavern in the deep jungles of Dromund Kaas, unnatural place, filled with all kinds of abominations. There’s something down there nobody’s laid eyes on and livid to brag about it. I want you to kill it.” 

Hrafnhar nodded again. “Easy enough.” 

“I want you to kill it _alone_ ,” he explained further. “Do this and you will be adopted into my clan. You will be my daughter and a Mandalorian.” 

Hrafnhar’s jaw fell open a little bit, Mandalore cocked an eyebrow. 

“Nervous, Hrafnhar?” 

She shook her head. “Figuring out if I want to be a Mandalorian or not,” she opted for honesty. “There’s a lot of… stuff… I’m not sure I’m up to.” 

Mandalore nodded. “If you’re not up to it, don’t bring me a suitable trophy. But I think you have what it takes.” 

“I can do that.” 

“My clans send their most promising warriors to bloody themselves on the beasts in the cavern. Head to their camp at these coordinates.”

* * *

Hrafnhar mulled it over that night in the cockpit. She didn’t know how she felt about being Mandalore’s daughter, but it would be in name only, it wasn’t like she’d have a real father again. She didn’t know how she felt about being a Mandalorian, with their rules and their honor and their… okay, their general attitude was alright. They seemed boisterous and rowdy, and she liked that. They were dedicated to the hunt and if she was feeling honest so was she. 

Hrafnhar frowned, she’d never thought this hard on a decision before. It felt like a decision that _needed_ to be thought about but… fuck it. 

Worse case she was a shitty mandalorian and no one gave a fuck. 

She’d do it. 

She plugged in the coordinates to Dromund Kaas. Whatever was in that cave, she could kill it. She’d bring back something impressive for Mandalore. She’d see where this path took her. 

Beat being driftless. 

She couldn’t fuck it up any worse than she’d fucked up being in Ascendancy and people were going to care about her fuck up less when it happened. 

She slept on the way back to Dromund Kaas, waking up when Mako knocked on the door to ask if she wanted breakfast and then enquired about their heading. 

Hrafnhar yawned and passed her on the way to the galley. “I gotta go do a thing,” she said artfully. “For Mandalore. So he’ll adopt me.” She rummaged around making caf.

“What?” Mako asked. “You mean he wants to make you a Mandalorian?” 

Hrafnhar yawned again. “That’s what he said.” 

“And how do you… are you sure about this?” 

Hrafnhar shrugged and watched the caf as it started to percolate. “I’m sure the fuck doing it anyway. What could go wrong.”

“Mandalorians are… intense.” 

“Yep.” 

“Are you…” 

“It’ll be fine, Mako.” She stretched out her back. “The only shitty thing is that I’ve gotta do it myself. I think it’s their… shit… their coming of age nonsense.” 

“Be safe,” Mako said. 

Hrafnhar poured herself some caf. “Come on, if we’re gonna chat we should do it upstairs where we won’t rouse her majesty. You know how Gault likes his beauty sleep.”

They took their caf and cereal up to the cockpit and settled down. 

On a whim, Hrafnhar checked a calendar. It wasn’t her birthday yet, but would be in a couple of weeks. It was almost a shame. It would have been funny to mark her adoption into the clans on her birthday. 

She looked at Mako and thought about Gault. The presence of other people raised the question of celebration. She hadn’t actually _done_ anything for her birthday since leaving the Ascendancy. 

But maybe she should. 

They reached Dromund Kaas around lunchtime, when Gault actually woke up and strolled out of his room for some caf. 

“Going somewhere, honeybun?” He asked as the ship touched down at the spaceport. 

Hrafnhar gave him a grin. “I have to go perform a coming of age ritual. You slept through a possible fucking epiphany.” 

Gault raised an interested eyebrow and took a drink. “Oh?” 

“Yeah. I pull this off solo and I’m a Mandalorian. How fucking weird is that?” 

“You actually _want_ to be a Mandalorian?”

She shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen?” 

Gault snorted a little laugh. “Those words are curse, friend. Try not to get shot or trampled or anything. I’ll follow up on a couple of leads while you’re out. Dromund Kaas is always full of _collectors_.” 

She tossed him a fake salute and left the ship and spaceport for the rainy jungle beyond. 

She followed Mandalore’s directions into the jungle on her speeder and emerged, soaked, in the middle of a camp of Mandalorians, just about everyone of which looked her age and therefore barely on the cusp of adulthood for most of their species. Hrafnhar strolled into the encampment, standing out in her lack of armor. 

One of the young Mandalorians spotted her. He looked her up and down derisively. “This is a camp for warriors, not hikers. You aren’t welcome here.” 

“That is the _antithesis_ of what Mandalore said, you obnoxious little nutsack,” Hrafnhar folded her arms over her chest. “How do you think I _found_ this place? You didn’t exactly put up fucking signs.” 

“And you are… ?” he scoffed. 

“She’s more warrior than you, Jogo.” The new speaker was cute, a little taller than Hrafnhar with big blue eyes marked by brands beneath them and sandy blonde hair. Cute _and_ taking her side. Hrafnhar noticed him. 

“You’re one to judge, eh, arue’tal?” snorted Jogo. 

“Huntmaster declared her Grand Champion.” 

Whatever Jogo had been standing on was swept away. He stared at Hrafnhar, taking her in again. “That true?” 

“Yep. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a monster to murderize.” 

“Winning the Great Hunt doesn’t make you one of us,” Jogo protested. “Finish up whatever brought you here and go.” 

The cute one shook his head. “Never mind. It’s an honor.” 

“Nice to meet you too,” she let her eyes roam over him. If she weren’t busy, she might want a bite of that. Just something for the road. “Got a name?”

“Torian Cadera.” 

Cute name, cute boy. 

“Taking the head of one of our beasts?” he asked. 

Hrafnhar nodded. “That’s the general idea, yeah. Supposed to get the biggest baddest motherfucker in there.”

“I get it,” he cracked a small smile. “The sire of the brood. No one’s seen it, but it’s there. You can feel its heartbeat in the walls.”

“Better warriors than you have tried.” Jogo turned to leave. “They never returned.” 

“I have heard that _a million_ times.” Her smile grew hard and fierce. “I always make it back.” 

Torian gave her a nod. “If there’s a bottom, it’s probably there. Good hunting.” 

Hrafnhar watched him go, deciding that she liked mandalorian butts, their lifestyle choices made for good ones. She pushed the lust aside and turned her attention to the cave. It had been a while since she’d gone hunting solo and beasts were different from men. Still, she thought, checking her blasters before plunging into the black, past the Mandalorians in the cave mouth, it was all the same game. 

The beasts prowling the cave were terentaks, huge spiky bipeds, but that meant they shared a weakness with gundarks and rancors: their underbellies were exposed. Hrafnhar aimed for the knees to bring the creatures down and polished them off as they lay in the dust, proceeding steadily down the cavern. She ignited a red light on her jacket, grateful that chiss had good low-light vision after millenia of living underground.

The beast at the heart of the cavern was not a terentak, but something new. It was bidedal, but sported huge curled horns on either side of its head and seemed to possess the ability to self-immolate. Hrafnhar shot a missile at its legs to trip it up and succeeded only in pissing it off. The beast leapt at her and she dodged to the side, firing into it. When it howled, the entire cave shook. 

Hrafnhar aimed for its face and its underbelly. It caught her with one sweeping backhand and threw her into a wall, stunning her briefly. She aimed at the monster’s eye as it came to finish her off and scored a hit. The beast wailed, staggered and fell. Hrafnhar drew her knife and stalked over to it, hot blood splashed on her hands as she sawed open its neck and then its chest to claim the heart. She wanted one of the horns for her room, but she’d need a duracrete saw to get at it and she didn’t just carry one of those around with her. 

She left the cave, heart held aloft with both hands, and listened to the delighted cheers of the Mandalorians as she passed them. Back out in what passed for sunlight on Dromund Kaas, she stopped by Torian’s little group. 

“She’s back,” Torian said, giving Jogo a small shove. He looked Hrafnhar over. “How’d it go?” 

Hrafnhar held the heart up. “Pretty good. Anyone got some ice and a bucket?” 

Ice and bucket was indeed found. Hrafnhar secured her heart inside it. 

“Ugly,” Torian said approvingly. 

“How did you kill it when so many of my clan have failed?” Jogo asked, a little bit awed. 

“By being quick and clever and generally better than most people. Same way I do everything.” 

“Hail to the victor!” Torian shouted, joined quickly by the rest of the young mandalorians. “Oya!” 

Hrafnhar let the cheers follow her back down to her speeder. She headed for the spaceport bruised but in high spirits. 

She showed the heart to Mako, who pulled a face, when she was back aboard the _Varactyl’s Nipples_. Gault looked at the bucket and chose to pass, body parts were not his forte. 

“Suit yourself,” she shrugged. “I’d better take it back to Mandalore.” 

* * *

There was a minimum of banthashit in returning to the _Spirit of Vengeance_. She was given the docking codes and met by Mandalorians before she was lead back to Mandalore’s lounge, carrying her bucket with her. Mandalore was joined by more than just standard Mandalorians when she arrived, and he grinned to see her. 

“The heart of the Ghost in the Darkness,” Hrafnhar said, opening the lid.

Mandalore looked at the heart and nodded. “Then it’s time I introduced you to the other Grand Champions of the Great Hunt; meet your only peers in the galaxy.” He gestured to the other bounty hunters. A human male, a zabrak woman and a droid. “We’ve gathered here to induct you into the our exclusive group, the only hunters in the galaxy with access to jobs on the legendary Blacklist.” 

“I thought it was my initiation into the Mandalorians.” Hrafnhar frowned a little. 

Mandalore nodded. “The blacklist has its own traditions, I need your help keeping one alive. There’s always been a Mandalorian in the group. Duty calls me away, so I want you to take my place, keep a Mandalorian among the Grand Champions.” 

Hrafnhar stared at him. All at once she was worrying about how much there was to being a Mandalorian. She didn’t _know_ anything. She couldn’t just take his place, could she? Mandalore cocked a challenging eyebrow. 

“Look, I’ll do it, but I don’t know the first goddamn thing about being a Mandalorian.” 

“We’ll take a few days, you and me, and you’ll learn.” 

Hrafnhar called the ship and let them know she was going to be a few days. Mako was worried, Gault had ideas about a fence and was happy to take the ship, and Mako, to Nar Shaddaa to make the sale. 

Hrafnhar turned her attention to Mandalore. “Alright, I guess I’m ready.” 

He took her out in a smaller craft to a little planet in the Dromund System and taught her to camp like a mando. They hunted for their meat and in the evening he told her about the _Resol’nare_ , the six tenants of being a mandalorian. Education, armor, self-defense, family, language, and heeding the call of Mandalore. As they lived in their camp, he broke down every tenant to base components, to teach her what she needed to know. 

There was a war on, a cold one sure but there were things that demanded Mandalore’s attention, and it meant something that he put the greater galaxy aside for even a little while. 

For something as stupid as showing the new kid the ropes. 

Hrafnhar was often the center of attention, but usually because she demanded it. Having someone take the time and effort to _teach_ was new. 

It should have made her uncomfortable, but Mandalore was a different kind of stern than the Aristocra had been. He called her _ad_ or _ad’ika_ , child. And he didn’t say it condescendingly. After four days they headed back to the _Spirit of Vengeance_. 

The other Grand Champions were milling around when Mandalore—Arturus ( _buir,_ he had told her, meant father)—and Hrafnhar returned. 

“Champions,” he said, spreading his arms in greeting. “It’s time we drink. Let’s see how much black ale my _ad’ika_ can put away!” 

There were cheers and a cup of something black and frothy was pressed into her hand. Hrafnhar drank deeply. She listened to the stories of the other hunters and shared her own. She drank and laughed. 

They were all respectably in their cups when Mandalore stood. “I hate to leave such fine company, but it’s time I got back to winning the Sith’s wars for them. Champions, ‘til we meet again. Hrafnhar,” he planted one massive hand on her shoulder. “ _Ni gar’tayl gai sa’ad._ ” 

_I know your name as my child_. 

Hrafnhar smiled as he left the room, feeling strange about the whole thing. 

The other champions finished their drinks and stood up, preparing to head to their own ships now that the party was over. 

The human male, Bloodworthy, grinned at her. “I haven’t see the old man that happy in a long time. How’s it feel to be Mandalorian?” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. Logically, nothing had changed. But it _felt_ like something had changed. She was the same, but different. “The same but drunker.” 

“Maybe you’ve been a Mandalorian all along,” said Bloodworthy. “Or maybe you’re just stubborn?” 

“Me? Stubborn? Perish the thought.” 

“We just wanted you to know we sent a little welcoming present to your ship,” Bloodworthy said. 

“A Blacklist bounty,” clarified the Defenestrator, the droid. “One of the two oldest to be exact.” 

Jewl’a gave Hrafnhar a knowing and almost cold smile. “Something to ease you into life at the top.” 

“Sounds exciting. I was starting to wonder what I should do with myself.”

“Don’t be a stranger.” 

They all headed back to their individual ships and Hrafnhar leaned against the wall. “Vacation first,” she announced to the ship at large. “Then we’ve got _fun_ bounties.” 

“Hail the conquering hero,” Gault said, coming out of his room. “You smell like someone pickled a flowershop.” 

“I am _very_ drunk,” she admitted. “Mandalore… _Buir_ … got me tanked.” She shrugged happily. “But I didn’t show it til now, because I’m a winner.” 

Gault snorted a laugh. “I’ll make caf, honeybunches, you hit the fresher.” 

“Fresher won’t know _what_ hit it.” Hrafnhar announced happily, wandering off to clean up, listening to the laughter behind her. 

* * *

They took a week off, using some of Hrafnhar’s winnings (and some of Gault’s charm) for a suite at one of Nar Shaddaa’s resorts. Hrafnhar let herself be pampered and watched Mako and Gault relax. She doubted she could take more than a week of doing nothing, but after the hell that had been the Great Hunt, everyone deserved some down time. 

“I told you this resort was the right one,” Gault said, his voice half muffled as he lay on his stomach during the fifty minute couples massage he had swindled for the pair of them.

Hrafnhar groaned her agreement as the nautolan masseuse found a knot near her hip. “Yep,” she agreed emphatically. “Think Mako’s having fun at the pool?” 

“If she’s not, she’s dead,” Gault said evenly. “I was starting to worry that you didn’t know _how_ to slow down.”

“Of course I do, pumpkin. I just _don’t_ a lot of the time.” She arched her back as the nautolan applied more pressure. “I hope Mako’s not resentful we picked Nar Shaddaa over some place with a beach.” 

“Beach next time.” Gault nodded knowingly. “I know just the place.” 

The massage ended and Gault and Hrafnhar dressed, rolling their tension-less shoulders and backs as if readjusting to a body without pain. 

Gault flopped back on his mattress and plucked a small fruit from their fruit basket, peeling it lazily to get at the flesh inside. “So, how’re you feeling about the whole ‘Mandalorian’ thing?” 

“Hasn’t changed anything yet,” Hrafnhar said with a lazy smile, reaching to put her hair back up. “We’ll see how I feel if it does.” 

“I just hope it doesn’t cut into our bottom line.” 

“Shouldn’t,” she shrugged. “The core tenets are the education of children I don’t have, armor I’m supposed to be wearing, self-defense which is a pretty broad category, defense of a clan I sort of have but haven’t met any members of, speaking a language no one has really taught me, and coming when Mandalore calls.” She listed it all out on her fingers. “I’ll learn the language and shit if I ever find a teacher who doesn’t drive me up a wall, but nothing in there means I can’t sit back and help you scheme.” 

Gault’s smile was beatific. “Glad to hear it, partner.” 


	10. Bloody Bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar is introduced to the big wide world of Blacklist Bounties.

Their vacation over, Hrafnhar checked the gift Bloodworthy had left for them. It wasn’t much, just an encrypted holofrequency and a planet to call it from, in _this case_ , Taris. According to Mako, once she’d slowed down enough that Hrafnhar could parse what she was saying, the Blacklist was a rumor and the _rumor_ was that only the major players in the galaxy could place bounties on it. This translated directly to _profit_ in Hrafnhar’s mind. They laid in a course, excited but accepting that it was going to take a couple of days to get there. 

Hrafnhar was taking her breakfast in the cockpit, feet on the console like she owned the whole universe which was about how she felt. 

_Lok_ , she thought. The name of her clan was _Lok_. 

She drank milk out of her cereal bowl. _Hrafnhar Lok_ had a good ring to it, way better than… than her other name had. 

If only the Aristocra could see her now. 

“Hey,” Mako leaned over the back of her chair with a small sigh. “You know SIS computers?” 

“I know _of_ them,” Hrafnhar said, tilting her head up to look at Mako. “In that I am aware that the SIS uses computers.” 

“ _Way_ easier to slice than I thought. Which is sort of worrying, now that I think about it.” Mako peeled off the back of Hrafnhar’s chair and slumped into the co-pilot’s seat. “Did some poking around in a few classified Republic databases. Found my birth certificate! Well, maybe.” 

Hrafnhar swallowed her spoonful of cereal. “You _maybe_ found your birth certificate?” 

“I found a dozen birth certificates, all with a gene stamp a lot like mine.” 

“That is a _lot_ of little Makos,” Hrafnhar observed. Maybe she should be concerned that Mako was slicing government systems from the backseat of the family van, but she really wasn’t. “If you can’t narrow it down it doesn’t really give us a place to start looking.” 

Mako’s face fell a little. “Well, no, it doesn’t. But it’s still a great find. My family’s records! It’s got to be! Parents, siblings, maybe grandparents, who knows what else.” Mako smiled again. “No names or dates though, just an SIS project number: 32. Have to keep looking, see what else I can find.” 

Hrafnhar drank a little more milk. “Let me know if I can help,” she said, mostly noncommittally. 

Mako smiled at her and left the cockpit, leaving Hrafnhar to puzzle, once again, over why finding a family was such a big deal to Mako. 

It was a pretty big deal if you were a Mando too, now that she thought about it. There was that whole ‘defense of clan’ thing in the _resol’nare_ that was vaguely reminscent of the Aristocra’s ‘family first’ banthashit. 

Everyone was obsessed with something Hrafnhar pretty much wanted nothing to do with. 

Everyone but Gault. 

This was why she liked Gault. That and the money. And his general charisma. 

There were lots of reasons she liked Gault. 

* * *

They pulled into Taris’s orbit and Hrafnhar rolled her neck and shoulders before calling the encrypted holofrequency and finding herself face to face with Bloodworthy. He smiled at her. “Hello hunter. Fancy seeing you here.” 

Hrafnhar raised an eyebrow. 

“Relax, this isn’t a prank. This bounty is more of a Blacklist tradition than an actual contract. It’s been passed from hunter to hunter for over a decade. I was the last hunter to take the contract who’s still breathing, so I’m the one passing the torch.” 

That, Hrafnhar considered, was a very long time for a mark to keep breathing. The Blacklist target had to be Gault levels of crafty. 

But she’d _beaten_ Gault. 

“Alright,” she said. “Let me have it.”

He got a crafty smile. “Now _that_ information’s going to cost you.” 

Hrafnhar frowned. 

He held a hand up to deter her turning the terminal off. “See, every hunter to take the contract puts up an ante. The one who actually _bags_ the target claims the stakes.” 

Hrafnhar’s frown slackened. Gambling. They were taking bets on their own abilities. 

“Nobody expected things to carry on this long, so the payout’s grown over the years. The ante is listed on the job.” 

Betting on herself was something Hrafnhar had always lamented she wasn’t allowed to do. She had taken down the Great Tyresius Lokai. She had taken down the Mandalorian Killer. She was confident in herself and her abilities. “Fuck yes I’m in.” She transferred the credits before Gault could hear about it and complain.

“That’s it,” Bloodworthy said. “Not going to bankrupt you, but odds are it’s credits you’re never going to see again.” 

Hrafnhar gave an indifferent shrug. _She_ knew how good she was. And soon, so would he. And the rest of the Blacklist hunters. 

_That’ll make Mandalore proud_. 

Wait. What? 

Hrafnhar refocused on Bloodworthy. “Your target is Jicoln Cadera, a Mandalorian who’s been in exile on Taris for ages now. Word is he’s been dead for a long time, but don’t be taken in. Jicoln’s still alive, and he’s still _very_ dangerous.” 

“How’s this guy beaten every Grand Champion in a fucking row?” 

Bloodworthy shook his head and sighed. “He’s resourceful and knows his environment better than anyone. All of Taris is his weapon. It took a year of searching and a great many dead before Mandalore finally washed his hands of the traitor and left him in exile. Ever since then, Grand Champions have attempted to win the glory of taking Jicoln’s head.” 

“I don’t suppose leads cost extra.” Hrafnhar crossed her arms over her chest and tossed her head. “Taris is a big place and extra fucked.” 

“Not really, and there aren’t any real leads. This Blacklist mark has evaded some two dozen hunters over the years.” Bloodworthy gave her a small nod. “Friendly word of advice: if you’re going to pick up the trail before the Empire wipes it out, you’re going to need more than your own two eyes. There’s a mandalorian base camp on the ground. I’d speak with the ranking officer there.” 

“Good idea. Thanks.”

She turned off the comm and whistled to get everyone’s attention. “Gault,” she called, leaning over the railing so she was almost in half to glimpse him as he came out of his room. 

“Yes princess?” 

“How do you feel about Taris?” 

“Like Devaronians are susceptible to the rakghoul virus.” He sighed. “Hard no, babyface.” 

She pouted at him. 

“I’ll go,” Mako volunteered from behind her. “It’ll be fine.” 

Hrafnhar considered that she would be _upset_ if Mako got mauled to death, but she would probably also be upset about losing Gault so it was six of one and a half dozen of another really. “Alright, Mako,” she said. “Gear up.” 

Taris didn’t have a space port, instead it had an orbital station and a shuttle to ferry people down to the cracked and broken surface. The Sith had fucked Taris and fucked it hard. About three hundred years back some wankstick named Malak had cracked the planet like an egg and some asshole before that had created the rakghouls, horrible twisted mutants with sharp claws and teeth that liked to maul things. 

Devaronians and humans bitten by rakghouls _became_ rakghouls if they survived the initial mauling and hadn’t gotten the vaccine recently.

Taris was just nasty business. 

On the orbital, Mako got the shot while Hrafnhar stood around trying to remember why the name _Cadera_ was ringing bells in her head. She knew it from somewhere and her keen hunter instincts had been developed to keep track of both names and faces in case they came up later.

She knew the name _Cadera_. 

It bothered her until she and Mako were strapped in on the shuttle, at which point she punched her own palm. “The hot one!” she exclaimed out loud. 

Mako gave her a blank look. 

“Placing a name,” Hrafnhar said, leaning back smugly. “Nothing to worry about.” 

They took the speeder and found the mando encampment, Hrafnhar uncomfortable but pleased with her foresight at having worn the crappy breastplate. Unlike the nearby Imperial outpost, the mando encampment was full of laughter. Mandos sat around their fires to share drink and stories in the dying sunlight. A couple of them shot Mako and Hrafnhar curious or irritated glances, but they were unharassed as they headed to find the field commander. 

“ _Su’cuy gar, vod_ ,” said the commander politely. “What brings me the honor of having Mandalore’s chosen in my camp?” 

_Su’cuy gar_ meant hello, from what little Mandalore had had a chance to teach her. 

_Vod_ was comrade? Brother? Sister? Friend? All of the above? 

She nodded her head in greeting. “I’m new, I’ll butcher the language if I try anything.” 

“Try,” the commander urged. “The language _matters_.” 

“Sue,” she frowned. “Su’cuy gare, gar.” 

He grinned at her. “You’ll get it. What do you need?” 

“I’m hunting ghosts, Jicoln Cadera, know anything that might help me find him?” 

“The traitor?” the commander shook his head. “No, no sightings. But then, we don’t pay attention to ghosts. Jicoln’s a lingering shame best forgotten.” He tilted his head curiously. “You believe he’s alive.” 

“That’s what the fucking job says,” Hrafnhar shrugged her shoulders. “So I intend to be _certain_ if nothing else.” 

“If the traitor’s alive, it would make some sense. His son was with us until recently. Disappeared.” 

“I think I met him during my blooding. Blonde, blue eyes, kinda cute?” 

He snorted a laugh. “Done your homework then? Yes, Torian. Showed a lot of promise in spite of his heritage. It was a shame to lose him so soon.” 

“Where’d he go?” 

“The boy went missing in action while scouting a nearby Republic colony. Torian was assumed killed or captured by the enemy, but I can’t discount the possibility that the traitor was involved.” 

“Where’s the colony?” 

He sent her the coordinates. “A search of the area couldn’t hurt. If nothing else, wiping out the colony could earn you a tidy sum. The Imperials want a slaughter, and they’re offering credits for Tarisian bodies.” 

“Credits, you say,” Hrafnhar said right before Mako elbowed her in the side. 

The commander smiled. “Come see me personally when you want your credits for the Protectorate, I’ll have them waiting.”

“Rhet, re, _Ret'urcye mhi,_ ” Hrafnhar managed. Goodbye.

“You’ll get it,” the commander promised. “ _Ret’urcye mhi._ ” 

With Mako on the back seat of the speeder, Hrafnhar took off towards the Protectorate to find a trace of Torian and, with any luck, his father. 

Something about the way the commander had said _his heritage_ bothered her. She’d hoped mandos were better than the Ascendancy, that bloodlines wouldn’t mean as much. Sure, both sects claimed to be meritocracies, but who your parents were _mattered_ in the Ascendancy. 

Who her parents had been had defined her, influenced the very fabric of her life. 

She’d wanted to get away from all that.

* * *

As a rule, Hrafnhar didn’t like fighting soldiers. They tended to be better trained than ordinary people and as a result a lot of her scare tactics didn’t work and she had to just rely on firepower and creative use of it. She and Mako proceeded carefully into the Protectorate, Mako staying behind Hrafnhar and Hrafnhar hating how the ill-fitting breastplate weighed her down.

She fought a Republic Captain to his knees and noticed he was protecting a small pile of terrified civilians. Civilians the Empire would pay good credits for if she shot them. But _first_ , they would know if Torian was being held captive and that was the first lead she had on this bounty. 

“Aaaah,” screamed one as she walked over to question him. “Please! Don’t kill us! We aren’t armed!” 

Hrafnhar, her mind still not made up about killing them or not, cocked an eyebrow. “You guys capture a cute blonde guy recently. About my age, brands under his eyes?” 

“I—I don’t. Anyone know what she’s talking about?” 

“They don’t have what you want,” croaked the captain from where Hrafnhar had left him bleeding. “They’ve been hiding in here since the Imperial transports hit the ground. Let them go and I’ll tell you what you want to know.” 

Hrafnhar pressed her lips together and hummed, mind still not made up. 

“ _Hrafnhar_.” 

She swore, her conscience was going going to sound like Mako at this rate, assuming she ever let it out of the gimp suit. 

“Fine,” she sighed, kissing her big bounty goodbye. “Everybody run.” 

Everybody ran. 

Hrafnhar kept her attention on the dying man as he spoke. “We haven’t made contact with any mandalorian troops, but we have been dealing with sniper attacks the last few weeks. I’m certain the sniper’s been taking shelter at an old excavation site nearby, but everyone I’ve sent to investigate has turned up dead. That’s all I know. I hope it was worth the lives you stole today. Now let me die in—” 

He cut off as Hrafnhar shot him. She holstered her weapon and looked at Mako. 

“What? It was nicer than letting him bleed out.” 

Also she was tired of listening to him talk, but Mako didn’t need to know _that_. 

They left the Protectorate and headed south towards the excavation site. Hrafnhar was not a fan of the general mugginess of Taris and moving around at night seemed like a profoundly stupid idea. _Unfortunately_ , the cover of darkness might have yielded them an advantage that couldn’t be ignored. In the blue-black of the night, Hrafnhar was considerably less visible than usual. 

At least the excavation site wasn’t _far_. 

She and Mako looked around for a moment until the sound of boots put them both on edge. 

“Ah crud,” Mako said. 

Hrafnhar chanced a glance over her shoulder and watched Torian, blaster aimed directly at the back her head, stalk into the room. She kept her back to him to keep him from getting jumpy and lifted her arms up peaceably behind her head. 

“Heya hot cock, that for me?”

From the corner of her eye she watched the blaster move off line just a little and took advantage of it to drop her weight, grab his arm and flip him over her, twisting the blaster out of his hand. 

“Ow,” he mumbled. 

Hrafnhar pointed her own blaster at his face. “What brings a pretty face like you out so late?” 

“I deserved that.” Torian said, looking up at her, surprised but unafraid. 

“Yeah you did,” Mako agreed. 

“You’re not here for me. Who then?” 

“Your dear old dad, actually,” Hrafnhar let him stand up but didn’t holster her blaster. “Seen him?”

“Thought I’d lead you to him?” Torian shook his head. “I’m looking too, but not for a reunion. To reclaim my clan’s honor.” 

Hrafnhar nodded and holstered her weapon, grateful that it didn’t look like she had to ruin that cherubic face to get what she wanted.

“I get that honor’s important. I’ll help you reclaim it if you help me with this hunt.” 

“Thanks,” he inclined his head a little bit. “I promise you, I can find him. I already know where to start. Someone’s erected dew collectors, beast traps around an old transport station. Have to be the traitor’s.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. Made sense. 

“Care to show me where?”

“I’ve only found one entrance into the station. It’s thick with rakghouls. Risky.” He set his hands on his hips. “Got a way to throw off rakghouls, but I’ll need help. Materials.” 

“Anything that puts fewer rakghouls between myself, Mako and the end of this hunt.” Hrafnhar agreed. “Also, Mako, this is Torian, the name I was trying to place earlier. Torian, this is Mako.” 

The pair smiled at one another, warmly on Mako’s end and somewhat more awkward on Torian’s. It was cute. 

“So what do you need?” 

“Fresh rakghoul bodily fluids—both blood and waste—and a decomposing rakghoul. Least a week old.”

“Gross, but shouldn’t pose a problem.” Hrafnhar looked at Mako. “You going to be alright?” 

“I can just shoot them from a distance, right? You’ll handle the actual collecting?” 

“You’re _almost_ as much of a princess as Gault,” Hrafnhar sighed. “Yeah, I can do the actual collecting.” 

“Check these waypoints,” Torian sent coordinates to her datapad. “We’ll rendezvous at the transport station.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Hrafnhar let him leave first, her eyes dropping down to his well-sculpted booty. She purred a little. 

“Do you have to objectify him?” 

“At the moment, Mako? Yes. Not like I know the guy and he’s hot.” 

Mako muttered under her breath.

“And you were looking too.” 

Mako went _scarlet_ and stammered to try and defend herself. Hrafnhar just clamped a hand on her shoulder. “It’s fine. We’re both allowed to look.”

* * *

Mako may not have ended up elbow deep in rakghoul filth, but Hrafnhar made up for it by tying the corpse they needed to the speeder in the back seat so Mako had to squish up as far from it as possible. Hrafnhar slung the corpse over one shoulder when they parked the speeder outside of the decimated transport station and carried it in, pockets full of rakghouls fluids and one blaster drawn in case of company. 

They found Torian around Transport Station 5 and he looked a little surprised and a little bit pleased to see them.

“Hey, smelled you coming.” he said with a little smile on his mouth. 

Hrafnhar let the rakghoul body hit the ground between them. “One body and a bunch of gross shit for your pleasure.” 

“Let me, this is take a minute.” 

Torian took the ingredients a ways down the tunnel to work while Hrafnhar used her water bottle to clean at least some of the muck off her arms and hands. 

Torian returned a little later. “Stuff’ll throw a rakghoul off my trail, but in their den? Keep your blaster ready.” 

“Fortunately I _always_ keep my blasters handy.” 

He handed her some muck. 

“So how do I use it”?” she asked, privately dreading the answer. 

“Smear it thick. If the fumes put the rakghouls out, we might sneak through,” Torian answered, starting to smear some of the filth on his neck and his armored forearms. Hrafnhar followed suit. 

Mako gagged. “Wow, that’s a smell… if I pass out, please don’t leave me behind.” 

Hrafnhar raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, you’d be a pretty cute rakghoul.” 

“ _Hrafnhar_.” 

“I’m just fucking with you. I’ll drag you home if I have to.” 

The trio snuck through the rakghoul den, moving slowly but determinedly with Torian taking point and Hrafnhar bringing up the rear until they reached a fortified building and opened the door, shuffling inside in a hurry. 

Torian shook his head like an akk dog trying to dispel water, yawning and working his jaw. “Ah! Hear that?” 

Hrafnhar shook her head, tightening her grip on her blasters in case something was coming. She didn’t hear anything. “What do you hear, kid?” 

“High pitched whine,” he groaned. “ _Trap!_ ” 

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Mako muttered. Hrafnhar jerked her by the collar and pulled her behind her as she heard the sound of many feet and dragging knuckles. When the rampaging rakghouls flooded into sight, Hrafnhar let loose a torrent of firepower while Torian set to defusing the box that had attracted them in the first place. 

They killed the rakghouls hiding further into the vault and found a holoterminal holding a small image of Jicoln Cadera. 

“So,” he scoffed, eyes falling from Torian to Mako to Hrafnhar to Torian again. “Is Artus finally sending _children_ to do his dirty work? Run home now and tell _Mandalore_ if he wants my head he could come take it himself.” 

“Uh, yeah, _no_.” Hrafnhar folded her filthy arms over her chest. “So are we doing this like men or am I chasing your skirts all over Taris.” 

Jicoln narrowed his eyes. “Think real hard, _girl_ , before you go issuing challenges you might regret. I will tell you what I told the others. You’ve survived; you have earned the right to the _Geroya Be Haran_. If you lose, however, I will kill you.” He sent coordinates to the holoterminal and Hrafnhar downloaded them. “I’ll be waiting at these coordinates. Then we’ll see who hunts whom.” 

The terminal went dark and Mako turned to look at Torian. “Was he expecting us?” 

“Personally? No.” Torian’s mouth thinned to a line. “He’s toying with us. But the _Geroya Be Haran_ gives us an opening.” 

“What is it, exactly? I speak like four words of Mando’a at the moment.” 

“A Mandalorian death game. There are four parts: _alii’jaate_ , personal honors; _Yai’me’suum_ , the homeworld; the _Sterebiise_ , who defends a legacy; and the _Naast_ , who destroys it.” 

Hrafnhar nodded like this made any sense to her, which it did not. 

Luckily, Torian was in an explainy mood. “He will place honors, prized possessions, around a battlefield. You will try to take them. If you take all of them, then you must take his home.” 

“I know he’s your dad and he is—was—a mando, but do you think he’ll play it straight or will he try to fuck me when I’m not looking.” 

Torian blinked at her. 

“Will he cheat?” she clarified. 

“He’s no mandalorian. Not anymore.” 

It was _not_ an answer, but there was actually a pretty good chance that Torian didn’t know himself. Jicoln had been exiled years ago and Torian had only just gone through his blooding, likely they hadn’t been close in a _very_ long time. 

“I’ll scout for Jicoln’s honors while you go to face him. Then, while you run the game, I’ll find his home. Call me when you’ve made your challenge.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. “I’m going to hit the Imperial base up for a wash first, Mako keeps looking like she’s going to pass out.” 

Mako scowled but didn’t argue. 

* * *

Not _precisely_ clean, but no longer smelling like rakghoul, Mako and Hrafnhar headed for coordinates Jicoln had sent. The coordinates sent her to a comm tower in the middle of fucking nowhere. Hrafnhar whipped out her comm and contacted Torian. “I’m here, but no sign of pops.”

“Not good,” Torian put words to what she was already feeling. 

The hair on the back of her neck prickled and then, all at once, the comm leapt out of her hands as someone fired at her from a distance. 

“Oh!” Mako was by her side in a moment. “Hey are you—” 

Hrafnhar shoved her behind the comm tower and grabbed her comm, joining Mako in a hurry as more bolts pinged off the tower’s back. 

“You okay?” Torian said from the comm, looking worried. “What happ—”

Her comm flickered and Jicoln appeared in her palm. “Challenge accepted.” 

“Oh,” she breathed as the comm switched back to Torian. “I am going to carve a new fuckhole in his neck and go to _town_.’ 

“Ew.” Mako gave her arm a squeeze. 

“Transmission cut out,” Torian said. 

“That’s fine, you didn’t miss much,” Hrafnhar responded. 

“Transmitting coordinates. Should be all of the traitor’s honors. Contact you when I’ve found his bolt hole. Torian out.” 

“Mako,” Hrafnhar breathed. 

“Yeah?” 

“Head back to the ship. I only want to give him one thing to shoot at.” 

“Are you sure?” 

Hrafnhar nodded and gave her a cocky grin. “You’ll slow me down, sweetheart. This needs to go as quickly and as smoothly as possible.” 

Mako pursed her lips, like she suspected Hrafnhar was lying but was too touched to say anything about it. “Comm when you need me to come pick you up.” 

“Will do.” 

Mako took off on the speeder and Hrafnhar headed on foot to find Jicoln’s honors. When she collected the first one, a bullet caught her in the thigh. 

But he wanted to play, he wouldn’t kill her until he’d had his fun. 

That gave her an _advantage_. Hrafnhar stabbed a kolto shot into her thigh, just above the blaster burn, and set off for the next coordinate.

Slowly but surely she collected the next two honors, hiding out of the way and relying on her natural skin tone to help camouflage her. Her comm buzzed and she answered it. 

Torian appeared in her palm, looking serious but hopeful. “Found the traitor’s bolt-hole. Wreckage. Crashed Ship. The Endar Spire.”

“Nice! I’ve got one more honor to pick up, but it’s nice to know where we’ll be going next.” 

“Keep the pressure on,” Torian instructed. “I’ll start laying a trap. I’ll call when everything’s in position.” 

Hrafnhar hung up and moved through the brush to the last of Jicoln’s honors, collecting it and then scurrying around behind cover as the blasterfire started up. 

“Torian,” she said, producing her comm again. “Please tell me that trap is ready.” 

“No.” Torian shook his head. “And the traitor’s on his way back.” 

“That’s a little ahead of schedule, don’t you think?” 

“He’s just changing strategy.” Torian insisted. “You’re winning; he’s coming to fortify his stronghold. Transmitting location. I’ll do what I can. Hurry.” 

She had sent Mako away with the speeder to keep her out of harm’s way. Frustrated with her own well-intentioned concerns, Hrafnhar charged on foot through the underbrush, mostly having to just _hope_ she didn’t stumble across and of Taris’s wild inhabitants. 

Through luck and grace (admittedly mostly luck) Hrafnhar reached the coordinates Torian had forwarded unaccosted. She arrived at the base of the massive wreck of the Endar Spire, grateful that Torian had included the way in when he sent the directions. Hrafnhar pushed inside. 

There were traps, and no sign of Torian, but Hrafnhar kept her ears peeled as she took down Jicoln’s reprogrammed droids. 

It was _possible_ , a small voice whispered in the back of her head, that Torian had been working with his old man the whole time. 

Hrafnhar pushed the thought away. Torian had been _helpful_ and he was nice to look at. She wasn’t going to just blame him for shit without proof. 

She found Torian on the floor and moved carefully to his side, skirting around the sensors that she was pretty sure attached to bombs. 

Torin rolled as upright as he could and looked into her face, desperation on his own. 

“Where is he?” Hrafnhar asked.

“Got cocky,” Torian confessed with a wince. “He’s tricky. Electro-net put him down, but—used it to cook off his munition cache. He’s running.” He stared up at Hrafnhar. “Don’t let the trail go cold.” 

“I won’t, but where do you think he _went_?” she asked. “Does he have another hole?” 

Torian shook his head. “Didn’t see one. Doesn’t matter, you can catch him. He’s hurt, bleeding, runnings. Deep tracks, bloody much, straight lines… even you could follow.” 

“Hey,” she said, offended. She produced her last kolto shot from a deep pocket. “This should help get you back on your feet at least.” She knelt down and stuck him with it carefully. “Should take care of the major damage at least.”

“Should have left me.” Torian grumped as he got to his feet. “You’ve given the traitor too much time.” 

Hrafnhar folded her arms over her chest and stared at him. His dedication was _admirable_ but also, damn Kid, you’re like eighteen. And you’re _human_. “Pardon fucking me for not letting you bleed out. But if he’s that fucked, I think we can catch him.”

Torian spared her an almost sheepish smile that lasted for only a second. “At least I get another crack at him.” 

“There you go, the bright side of me saving your life.” 

“The traitor sacrificed his stockpile to escape, he’ll be scavenging now. Most likely, he’ll steal from nearby outposts.” 

“Sounds right,” Hrafnhar nodded. “It’s what I’d do in his situation.” 

“We should update out tactical maps at an Imperial Outpost, then search for signs of the traitor at outposts nearby.” 

Torian was slow, but Hrafnhar stuck by him as they made their way to the nearest Imperial Outpost. They updated their maps. 

“We should split up. Cover more ground,” Torian said. 

“Sure,” Hrafnhar shrugged. “I’ll be in touch.” 

* * *

Hrafnhar followed the deep tracks and bloody mud on foot, finding pillaged outposts on the way. The trail led her into and then out of Olaris, the big republic settlement and she was forced to hide _as well as_ hunt. At every stop she updated Torian and told him which direction she was heading. 

The mud was caked high on her boots, the jungle rustled around her. But Hrafnhar, despite the difficulties, was actually kind of enjoying herself. Gault hadn’t put up this much of a real _fight_ , though she maintained that he had still been harder to catch. 

In addition to the sporty aspect, Hrafnhar had missed hunting on her own. She was almost ready to confess that she _cared_ about Mako (almost) and she _liked_ Gault, but testing _her own_ prowess was always nice. 

She found Jicoln’s camp, and the man himself, and let her hands skate near her blasters. 

“You gave a good run, my friend.” Jicoln looked a bit like his son, the same blonde hair (in a beard this time) the same piercing blue eyes. He was a lot beefier that Torian, however. “Might have done me in if you hadn’t left the finale to a novice.” He eyes sharpened to a glare. “You and Artus have something in common. You’re content to let the young do your dying for you.” 

“Or you could have, you know, _not_ shot your own kid. Just a thought.” 

“Is that how Mandalorians sleep at night these day?” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. She was still figuring out how to Mando. 

“Let’s finish burying the past. This game’s gone on long enough.” In a smooth move Jicoln had his rifle in his hands and Hrafnhar dodged backwards to avoid a nose-shattering blow. She grabbed her blasters and fired at him. He caught her in the shoulder and she got him good in the gut. Jicoln dropped his rifle and knelt, clutching the new holes in his torso. 

She kept her blaster at his face. 

“Ah, just _do it,”_ Jicoln demanded. 

“He and I aren’t done,” Torian shouted a little ways behind her. Hrafnhar didn’t turn to look. 

“Welcome to the party.” Hrafnhar said, still holding Jicoln in place. 

Torian pulled his side arm and rambled something off in Mando’a. 

Jicoln looked like someone had struck him and croaked something out, the only part of which Hrafnhar was able to catch being “my… my son?” before he turned back to Hrafnhar. “I have a last request, hunter. I want a moment to speak with my—my son.” 

Hrafnhar looked at Torian. “Do _you_ want to speak to him?” 

“We won’t be remembered as traitors,” Torian said. He closed his eyes for a moment and when they opened they were steel. He fired and Jicoln slumped over dead. “It’s over,” he said, turning his attention to Hrafnhar. “Thanks for this.”

_Oh no he’s hot_ , a small voice in Hrafnhar’s head muttered. 

“Honor restored, vod?” she asked, hoping she was using _vod_ in the proper context. 

“I won’t forget this.” His voice had a slightly gravelly quality that Hrafnhar didn’t feel she deserved, given what it was doing to her knees. He touched his side and gave a small bow. “It’s been an honor.” 

“Pleasure’s all mine.”

She returned to _The Varactyl’s Nipples_ with Jicoln’s body and offered grins to both Mako and Gault. 

“You are _covered_ in mud,” Gault said disdainfully. 

“Is it actually mud this time?” Mako asked. “What happened?” 

“Found him, shot him, well, Torian shot him but I beat him down.” Hrafnhar rolled her neck to loosen it. “It’s mud, mostly. I’m going to use the fresher.” 

“What would it be _other_ than mud?” Gault asked. 

As Hrafnhar entered the refresher she heard Mako reply with, “you don’t wanna know.” 

Hrafnhar washed up quickly and ran her boots under the jet spray to knock most of the mud off before changing into clean clothes and proceeding upstairs to tell Bloodworthy that she’d done it. 

It ended up being a holocall between the rest of the Blacklist Champions, but Hrafnhar was fine with that. More people to know how awesome she was was never a mistake. 

“Glad to see you’re still alive,” said Bloodworthy. “You’ve been out there a while.” 

Jewl’a chuckled. “Really didn’t want to come back empty-handed, did you?” 

“Calling it quits?” Bloodworthy asked, sounding entirely non-judgemental about it. “No shame in bowing out after a good run.” 

“Jicoln’s corpse is hanging out in my hold in case you need the bioscan as proof that I did it.” 

“Send it.” 

Hrafnhar sent the bioscan and listened to the sweet sweet sounds of surprise 

“Holy shit. You actually caught him?” Jewl’a laughed. “How do you like _that_.” 

Bloodworthy nodded emphatically. “Would have been a shame if old age turned out to be the only match for Jicoln Cadera. Transferring your jackpot now.” 

“Impressive work,” added the Defenestrator and Hrafnhar watched the sweet, sweet credits roll in. “Records indicate that you are the twenty-eighth hunter to place a stake on that bounty. Twelfth to return.” 

“Don’t look so proud of yourself.” Jewl’a scoffed a little. “You bagged somebody’s grandpa. Your lucky streak won’t last.” 

“Wanna bet on it?” Hrafnhar challenged. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t have to.” 

Bloodworthy rolled his eyes. “All right, Jewl’a, we’ve all got better things to do than talk trash. I’ll make arrangements for the Mandalorians to take Jicoln off your hands. Expect to meet them on the orbital.” 

“Luckily I’m already docked.” She turned off the comm and headed to the galley for a quick snack before heading out to meet the Mandalorians with Jicoln’s corpse. 

“ _Burc’ya,_ ” said the mando in front. “Wasting no time earning new honors, I see. We’ve been sent to collect the traitor from you.” 

“Good,” Hrafnhar handed the body off and then rotated the shoulder it had been draped over. “He’s heavy.” 

As the other Mandos turned to leave, Torian stepped out from the crowd. 

“I need to ask you a favor, Champion,” he said seriously, blue eyes boring into her red ones. “I want to come with you.” 

“And here I thought this was a one way attraction,” she teased. 

Torian smiled a little. “Guess not.” He cleared his throat. “I mean to serve,” he explained. “Join your hunts, earn respect for my clan. Give me this honor.” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “The honor’s mine, you’ll get used to Mako and Gault.” She lead him back to the ship. “This is _The Varactyl’s Nipples_ , our base of operations and probably the ugliest ship you’ve ever seen. We’re running a little low on rooms, but I can probably stoop to sharing mine with Mako so you and Gault each get your own.” 

“I’ll be fine in cargo.” 

“We’ll… find you a bed… then. I guess.” Hrafnhar shrugged. “Whatever makes you happiest.” 

Back aboard she headed up top to summon everyone together for a _household_ meeting. “Hey bitches, get up here and meet the new kid,” she said into the intercom. 

A few minutes later there were boots on the staircase. 

Mako smiled widely when she saw Torian. “Always room for one more in my book.” 

“Gault Rennow,” Gault said with a polite bob. “At your service.” 

“Pleasure,” Torian replied simply. 

“It’s not much to look at, but it’s home.” Mako gestured to the ship around them. 

“No complaints.” Torian shrugged. 

Hrafnhar crossed her arms over her chest. “Gault and I have made improvements. Remember when we stole this rust bucket?” 

“Got me there,” Mako agreed. She looked at Torian. “I’ll give you the tour.”

Torian left with her. 

“So,” Gault swanned over and leaned on the wall at her side. “Is that the hot mandalorian you were bemoaning earlier or a new one?” 

“The same one as Dromund Kaas.” Hrafnhar answered. “Either close quarters will make it better or worse. We’ll see.” 

“You’re screwed honeybun.” 

“I wish.” Hrafnhar sighed. “But maybe _eventually_.”

* * *

She swung into cargo to see how Torian was settling in the next morning and found him not only _awake_ but bright eyed and bushy tailed while both Mako and Gault were still sleeping. 

Torian looked up at her and smiled a little, a touch sad around the eyes. “Thanks for the help on Taris. Decent of you to let me in on the kill. You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I’m just glad it worked out,” Hrafnhar confessed.

“ _Vor entye_.” 

“Um… what?” 

“I accept a debt, thank you,” Torian translated. “Still new to the language, right?” 

Hrafnhar nodded. “I’ve had about three days of anyone telling me what’s expected of a Mando. There wasn’t a lot of time to work on my fucking language skills.” 

“I’ll teach you,” Torian offered. “If you want.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. “I would like that. Breakfast?” 

“Just ate.” 

“Follow me while _I_ get breakfast?” Hrafnhar asked, batting her eyelashes at him. 

“Sure.” 

Torian followed her to the galley and settled across from her at the table as she ate her cereal. 

“Looking forward to this,” he said. “Not everyone gets to fight beside the Champion of the Great Hunt.” 

“I’m sure I can think of something better for us to do than fight if you want to get real close.” 

Torian blushed but didn’t break eye contact. “Something to consider.” 

They spent the rest of the morning discussing language. Basic had not, in fact, been Torian’s first language. But that meant that he had a pretty good handle on how hard learning a second, or in Hrafnhar’s case _third_ , language could be. 

When Mako woke up she joined them and Hrafnhar left her and Torian talking while she checked their heading and hung out in the cockpit. 

Gault, eventually, woke up and headed up to the cockpit to drape an arm around her seat. “Let me tell you a little thing about _opportunity_ ,” he said. 

Hrafnhar looked up at him. “Oh?”

“Sometimes, when it knocks, you put it away for a rainy day. Take this group of ‘fresh off the shuttle’ Arcona I met at the Mos Ila spaceport before you showed up. I left those Arcona with a _stellar_ impression of Gellar Roing, helpful merchant, and ear-marked them for a return trip once things died down.” 

“And how’d these Arcona catch your eye, Gault?” 

“Seems,” he flopped down into the co-pilot’s sea, “fresh water’s hard to come by on Cona. These rubes heard about moisture farming on Tatooine and figured it was their ticket to riches.” He grinned, a wide and endearing grin. “Fleecing these yokels will be like taking candy from a baby: the key is finding the right scheme.” 

“You’re so cute when you’ve found a new toy.” 

Gault chuckled. “Surely a Mandalorian can appreciate testing one’s limits. Moisture farmers aren’t exactly rolling in credits, but a whole colony of them can add up.” 

“I’ll keep it in mind, Gault, let me know what you come up with.”


	11. Up My Ass About It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar is offered her big break into show biz and things, naturally, get broken.

“Nice!” Mako flounced into the cockpit. “Now I _know_ we hit the big time!” 

“And an explanation of that would be super.” Hrafnhar said, looking up over her shoulder. 

“Sorry, I’m just so excited.” Mako took a breath to steady herself. “Offers have been piling up since we won the Great Hunt, most not worth our time, but I think we finally struck the mother lode.”

Hrafnhar cocked an eyebrow and indicated with her wrist that Mako should continue. 

“Some bigwig from Adascorp just sent us an offer with more zeros than I can count.” 

Hrafnhar’s other eyebrow climbed up to join the first. “That’s a lot, you can count pretty high.” 

“Har, har,” Mako rolled her eyes. “Get this, it isn’t even for a bounty. They want you to endorse their new line of battlefield adrenals. They’re willing to give their current spokesperson the boot, but only if you pick up the contract as soon as possible.” 

“I don’t really know if I’m celebrity mouthpiece material.” 

Gault, who had come up to follow Mako (probably because Mako had been bouncing) rolled his eyes. “Well _I_ am, and for that much money. I’d be glad to fill in for you.” 

“Some dignity.” 

Hrafnhar whipped her head around when Torian spoke, not sure where _he_ had come from. 

“Can’t hurt to hear them out.” Mako pointed out. “We’re supposed to visit Adascorp’s plant on Quesh to talk terms.” 

“Let _me_ handle the negotiations,” Gault put a hand on his chest, “and we’ll be rolling in credits. I’ll only take a thirty percent cut.” 

“Because you love me, right?” 

“Because if I didn’t, it would be fifty,” Gault confirmed. 

“Not how I’d want to be remembered,” Torian crossed his arms over his chest and Gault glared at him. 

Before they could get into an argument, however, Mako piped up. “So, we’re headed to Quesh.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Tell them I’m mulling it over,” Hrafnhar said with a small snort. “It’s too much money to ignore, but I would also cause a scandal in thirty seconds.” She paused. “Less than.” 

“An ad _is_ about thirty seconds,” Gault said thoughtfully. 

“Okay,” Mako sighed. “But don’t make me nag you. This is _way_ too good an opportunity to pass up because _you_ forgot about it.” 

* * *

Hrafnhar spent the night of her birthday alone in the cockpit, grateful that no one, not even Mako, knew what day it was. She exhaled and popped the cap on a beer, feeling like she’d finally outrun some piece of her past. 

The doubt dribbled in like ice water to her veins though, maybe she was _too_ notorious now. She won the Great Hunt.

She _wanted_ the Aristocra to know that she had won the Great Hunt. She wanted the Aristocra to know everything she had accomplished since bailing on the Ascendancy, but she couldn’t really believe the old woman would take the news lying down. 

Hrafnhar might have buried Mhir’inna’csapla under a mountain of banthashit but she hadn’t changed her appearance. The same freckles, the same upturned nose. More hair but worn pulled back like always.

Her accent would give her away eventually if nothing else did. She’d changed it but sometimes it still slipped and slid and caught on stiff imperial consonants. Sometimes she still swore in cheunh, when she was frightened or truly shocked.

Rinnac remained a part of her, for all that Hrafnhar had tried to be rid of her. 

And on her birthday, when the rest of the crew was sleeping, Rinnac sat alone in the cockpit and reflected upon her mother and who her mother had wanted her to be. There had been dreams riding on her, hopes, plans, the future of their house. Rinnac—Hrafnhar—stared out the window and wondered where her mother was. If in the last four years she’d had another child, one better suited for the life she had planned.

“I know that look,” Torian said from the doorway. 

She slunk a little deeper in her chair, like through silence and sulking she could will herself invisible. 

“What’s on your mind?”

Hranfhar—Rinnac—huffed. She thought about telling Torian to fuck off the way she told most people to fuck off, but when she turned to look at him his expression was earnest and open and all the fight went out of her. “My mother.”

“You’ve never mentioned your mother.”

She was grateful he didn’t say ‘parents’. Grateful that to Torian, if to no one else, she was Mandalore’s child. Mandalore had been forthcoming and informative, had valued her based on _skill_. 

“Not a lot to talk about,” she lied. “Haven’t seen the bitch in years.”

Torian took the seat next to her and Hrafnhar swung her legs up onto the dash to pretend like she was more nonchalant than she felt.

“ _Buir_ ,” Torian said. “That’s our word for parent.”

“ _Buir,_ ” she repeated automatically, remembering when Mandalore had first used it. The word caught on the crisp imperial consonants. She tried again, “buir,” lengthening the first syllable and trying to think about Artrus–Mandalore–and not about Aristocra Theas. She folded against her knees in a rare display of weakness. “Mandalorians put a lot of stock in the bloodline.”

“We’re not supposed to. _Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadaas'la._ ”

“Bloodline is … not important,” she hedged. “You as a parent are the most valuable thing?”

“No one cares who your father was,” Torian helped, “only the father you’ll be.” He gave her a small smile. “I’ll never ask about them, Vod.”

“Thank–” she paused and shook her head. “ _Vor’e_.”

* * *

In the end, Hrafnhar did set course for Quesh, figuring that it couldn’t hurt to _talk_ to people who wanted to give her so many credits. Gault was over the damn moon about this, his eyes sparkling with promises of thirty-percent net profits. Torian didn’t look happy about her choice, but Torian cared a great deal about honor and reputation and while Hrafnhar could agree that both of these things were important, it was _money_ that made the galaxy spin ‘round. 

Why anyone chose to do business on _Quesh_ was beyond her, however. The whole planet was toxic, enough so that she and Gault had to get inoculated against the very atmosphere before they could touch down. Gault bore it all like a first rate Republic trooper, credits still dancing in his eyes. For her part, Hrafnhar was honestly impressed at how _much_ of a motivator money was for him. Gault could do the impossible if it culminated in enough zeros at the back of a number. 

She could respect and admire it, but it did admittedly make her feel kind of lazy. 

“Nothing like a breath of fresh toxins to get you going in the morning,” Gault drawled as they waited for the elevator. 

Hrafnhar snorted a little laugh. “Might be deadly, but that view isn’t something you get where I’m from.”

“I would think the mountains would block the more spectacular views,” Gault said with a little shrug. 

“What makes you think mountains?” 

“Your accent slips in the early mornings chum, you might want to work on that.” 

Hrafnhar sighed. “Ugh, you’re probably fucking right. You haven’t _told_ anyone, have you?” 

“And risk the good thing we have going? Perish the thought.” 

They left the main outpost and headed north towards where they were supposed to meet Peyton Swole, the representative for Adascorp. Gault sat easily behind her on the speeder, his hands holding onto her hips tightly enough to keep him from falling off and no tighter. 

They arrived without incident and brushed the little bit of accumulated dust off before heading inside, Gault pacing himself to keep from walking in front of her and Hrafnhar honestly not noticing. 

A man met them almost as soon as they were inside. A dark skinned human male with drab brown hair and eyes and clothes that made him look like he was monied. He looked Hrafnhar up and down, nodding to himself as he did. “So, you’re my hunter? Yes, yes, I see it now…” He smiled at her. “The pictures don’t do you justice.” 

The way his eyes lingered made her feel like he thought she was prey and the role reversal was profoundly uncomfortable. 

“Excuse my manners,” he gave a short bow. “Peyton Swole, Director of Galactic Relations.” 

“Nifty,” Hrafnhar said, tensing her arms to keep from crossing them over her chest. “This is Gault, my… manager.” It was close enough to true anyway. 

“Gault Rennow.” Gault gave a little bow and a killer smile. “At your service.” 

Peyton acknowledged Gault with a small nod. “We can discuss the terms of contractual partnership in my office. This way please.” He gestured behind him and turned to lead them deeper into the building. 

Something about the whole thing set Hrafnhar’s hair on end, but it might just have been the _newness_ of it all. Newness and the lingering fear that she was going to get too visible and the Aristocra would send more people after her. Hrafnhar was _good_ , fuck, she was one of _the best_ , but luck wore out and the more bounty hunters the Aristocra sent after her, the greater the odds of one of them getting lucky. 

She’d hope the old woman had given up, but she _never_ gave up. 

Hrafnhar rolled her shoulders, pushing the concerns away. She was already pretty damn visible. Worrying about it wasn’t going to do anything but cut into her bottom line. 

They reached Peyton’s office and Hrafnhar and Gault settled into the chairs that had been provided. 

“Make yourselves comfortable,” Peyton said. “May I offer you anything?” 

Hrafnhar wasn’t usually above accepting a drink on someone else’s dime, but her stomach was still clenched with discomfort so she just shook her head. “More interested in talking about this contract.” 

“Valory,” Peyton said into a comm on the desk. “Send in a refreshment cart… spare no expense.”

The thunder of boots was a give away. Hrafnhar’s hand slid to the blaster at her hip and her eyes flashed to Gault’s. 

Gault was old and mostly looked put upon, more than frightened. When the troops kicked in the door to Peyton’s office, it was Gault who spoke up first. Offering a cheeky ‘I didn’t do it’ smile before he asked. “So, which one of you is Valory?” 

“Agent Dhal,” said Peyton, touching his chest to introduce himself properly. “Strategic Information Service.” 

_Fuck_ , thought Hrafnhar. Her second instinct was to blame it on Mako’s reckless slicing of Republic systems but Mako was, fortunately, safely back on the ship. 

“I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of Jedi Master Kellian Jarro and the destruction of the Republic cruiser _Aurora_. 

At least it wasn’t Mako’s fault. 

Hrafnhar curled her hand around her blaster. She was a little insulted that they thought it’d be this easy to arrest her and a little glad that she had Gault by her side. 

“I was hired to do a job,” Hrafnhar said easily. “Take it up with my employer.”

Not that it had been a traditional employer and not that she was going to sell out the Mandalorians. 

“We plan to,” said Agent Dhal. “After you clarify a few things. Cooperate and you might not spend the rest of your life behind bars.” 

There was the hiss of a lightsaber igniting and Hrafnhar took her eyes off of Dhal to focus on the padawan she hadn’t killed back on the _Aurora_. 

“No good deed,” Hrafnhar sighed, cursing Mako a little bit. 

“You spared my life,” the jedi said. “The courts will take that into consideration if you come peacefully.” 

“Can I say I told you so, yet?” Gault asked. Something was flashing beneath where his palm was settled on his leg. 

“Given as this was your idea?” Hrafnhar raised an eyebrow. “No.” 

A holo of a jedi appeared over the desk. “Thendys,” he said. “Relieve the bounty hunter of weaponry.” There was a half-second pause. “Cautiously. They’re a tricky bunch.” 

“I know that too well, Master.” The young jedi set her mouth to a thin line. 

“Touch me and I will put three bolts in her pretty little face,” Hrafnhar warned, fixing her gaze on Thendys. 

Gault moved, tossing the flashing light high into the air and diving for cover. Hrafnhar followed suit as the flashbang lit up the room. She and Gault kicked the chairs over for cover and took pot shots at the SIS agents, Hrafnhar focusing most of her fire on Thendys. 

“No!” shouted the jedi, reaching out with the force to drag Hrafnhar from cover, accidentally exposing her side to Gault’s fire. 

With the jedi down, the fight got easier and after about five minutes Gault and Hrafnhar emerged from their makeshift bunker to stretch out their limbs. 

Hrafnhar turned her attention to the holo of the jedi while Gault started going through the dead men’s pockets. 

“You’ve only made matters worse for yourself,” the jedi said. 

Hrafnhar scowled. “Stick your lightsaber up your ass and turn it on.” 

She hung up. 

“Think there’s a safe in here?” Gault asked. 

Hrafnhar snorted a little laugh and opened her mouth to say she was excited to find out when the alarm started going. “Guess we’ll never know.” 

“We could always bill them later,” Gault said, probably just to cheer her up. 

“And that’s why I love you.” 

They left as quickly as they could manage.

* * *

Back aboard _The Varactyl’s Nipples_ , Hrafnhar was mostly just pleased that Torian didn’t look _smug_ over what had happened. 

Mako, through either professional pride or some fear of a reprisal that wasn’t going to come, threw a fit. “That offer letter was one hundred percent legitimate,” she insisted. “I traced it back to Adascorp and cross-checked all the digital signatures.” 

Hrafnhar sighed. “It _was_ legit. SIS got to Adascorp.” 

“The Strategic Information Service?” Mako asked. 

“You mean those guys who’s computers you’ve been rifling through? Yeah.” She shrugged. “Relax Mako, this is my fault, not yours.” 

Mako sighed and then stopped. She touched her implant. “Looks like Bloodworthy’s on the line, want to table this for now?” 

“Fuck yes.” Hrafnhar let her shoulders sag. “I could use some good news.” She moved quickly to the holoterminal, eager for something _fun_ to wash out the bad taste of nearly getting arrested instead of paid. “Hiya.” 

“Hope I’m not interrupting?” 

“You’re not interrupting anything I don’t want _sorely_ inter-fucking-rupted,” Hrafnhar assured him. 

Bloodworthy smiled a little. “Just wanted to transfer your next target, that is, if you’re ready for another Blacklist favorite.” 

“I am vibrating with excitement,” Hrafnhar said. “And I’m ribbed for your pleasure.” 

Bloodworthy laughed. “We made sure to grab the ugliest mark on the list. This bounty’s years shy of beating Jicoln’s time, but anything sitting on the Blacklist more than a month is real trouble.” He gave her a small smile and a little nod. “I’m putting my money on you this time, so try not to get yourself killed.” 

“It’s a safe investment,” Hrafnhar smiled. “Do I get to put money on me to?” 

“Naturally.” 

She loved the Blacklist. She turned off the holo and turned to face her crew.

Torian folded his arms over his chest. “What’s out next move?” 

“Gault and I shower while Mako plugs in the coordinates. Then probably food happens, then we take out another bounty.” She gave him a fierce smile. “Think you’re up for it?” 

“Born that way.” 

* * *

Torian was sitting the in Cargo hold when Hrafnhar emerged from the fresher. She rubbed her hair with a towel and walked over to him. 

“What sort of jobs are coming up? Hunting? Mercenary work?” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “I’m hoping for more hunting, I prefer it. But what sorta shit are you looking for?”

“Something hard enough to sharpen myself on.” 

Hrafnhar looked him up and down and thought: _I can get that hard_. 

“Been in a few skirmishes,” Torian continued, unaware of how Hrafnhar’s inner monologue was determined to eat him alive. “Treaty with the Republic made real fighting scarce.” He smiled a little. “Like to see something worthy.” 

“While we’re waiting we could go a couple rounds,” Hrafnhar offered, mostly because it would give her an excuse to pin Torian in place and she _liked_ the idea. 

Torian didn’t shy away, if anything his smile sharpened. “Knew coming with you was a good idea. Our people need battle to find out what we are.” He switched to Mando’a. << Mando without war is like a starship without space. >>

Hrafnhar processed the saying. << I like that, >> she said, her mando’a halting and stretched. << We should probably find a war. >>

<< Looking forward to it. >>

He helped Hrafnhar push boxes out of the way so they had a makeshift ring and then he turned to strip out of his armor while Hrafnhar disarmed and pulled her wet hair back into a ponytail. They squared up and went for it. Torian grabbed Hrafnhar around the middle to try and throw her to the ground but she twisted at the last minute so she fell on top of him, hips straddling his and arms forcing his shoulders to the floor. Torian had more upper body strength and he used it to wrench her arms free of his shoulders and roll her side ways. 

“This is exciting,” said Hrafnhar, pinned beneath him. “You’ll make a girl’s heart skip.” She pulled her legs in and punted him off of her, rolling back to her feet. 

“Careful of the cargo,” Gault cautioned as he passed. “Some of it’s worth more than either of you.” 

Hrafnhar and Torian weren’t listening, dodging and rushing to get one another back in a clinch. 

When they were finally tired Hrafnhar was winning by one point but she was going to have to shower again. She looked at Torian’s mouth and decided against it but only narrowly. “This was good,” she breathed, head tilted up to the ceiling. “We should, hah, do it again sometime.” 

<< Whenever you want. >>

She tried to figure out how to say what she wanted to say in Mando’a, but Torian had mostly just been teaching her the polite things to say, so she went with basic. “Torian, I’m down to get sweaty with you _all_ the time.” 

Torian blushed. 

“I need another shower, you wanna come?” 

Torian blushed harder. “You go first.” 

“Suit yourself.” 

She showered quicked in the refresher and then headed upstairs to check the coordinates for the next bounty. 

“So Torain…” Mako said without looking up from her monitor. “He’s kinda cute, don’t you think?” 

“Oh he’s more than _kinda_ cute,” Hrafnhar said with a little laugh. 

“So you think… maybe he’s your type then?” 

“I’d fuck him, Mako, but I don’t really do settled down.” Hrafnhar cocked an eyebrow. “Why, do _you_ wanna fuck him?” 

“Hey,” Mako said, immediately. “I don’t know, but I sort of, I think I like him.” Mako rubbed the back of her neck. “I think he’s interested in me, but… he’s really good at the ‘Mandalorian’ thing. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking.” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “It’s not that hard. And the ‘Mandalorian thing’ is part of the appeal. At least for me. But look, I’m not the sort of person who cat fights. You pursue him your way, I’ll pursue him my way. We’ll see who ends up fucking him.” She laughed a little at Mako’s scandalized expression. “But I don’t do long-term, so I think you’ve got the upper hand on this one. Go talk to him.” 

“Thanks.” Mako beamed. “I will. Anyway, remember that SIS project number I found, 32?” 

“Should we be poking the SIS while they’re hot and bothered for my ass?” 

Mako ignored her. “Turns out, if you search for it in enough super-secret Republic databases, it gets noticed. Ran into a little… trouble. Like ‘If I keep doing this the chance of mysteriously disappearing goes up dramatically’ sort of trouble.”

“Maybe you should call it quits while SIS is paying attention to us. I’ll protect you from whatever, Mako, but you could stand to make it a little easier.” 

Mako nodded her agreement. “Figure there are other, less… hazardous channels I can look into. I’ll,” she ran a hand down her face. “I’ll let you know if I decide to do anything stupid. Or, more likely, let you know after.” 

Hrafnhar sighed. “Maybe Torian’s dick’ll distract you from this banthashit,” she sighed. “Keep out of trouble Mako, before you make me root against myself.” 

She left Mako and went to find Gault, because Gault was _easy_. Mako was ass-deep in SIS and-now-boy troubles. Torian was almost distractingly attractive and now the prize of some stupid game between her and Mako. 

Gault, however, just wanted to get paid. 

And she could _respect_ that. 

“Mako and I are competing over Torian, I guess,” Hrafnhar said as she flopped over onto Gault’s mattress as soon as he let her into the room. “So that’s some banthashit.” 

“You _want_ that?” Gault looked at her skeptically. “Hrafnhar, he’s so… serious.” 

“Seriously hot,” she corrected. “And I like that Mandalorian intensity. Apparently, so does Mako.” 

“I think at this point it’s traditional to scratch the other girl’s eyes out, not make it a competition.” 

“Scratching Mako’s eyes out would probably upset me,” Hrafnhar admitted with a small huff. “She’s been with me the longest. I _like_ her.”

“Want something that’ll cheer you up?” Gault offered sweetly, extending a hand to her from the side of the bed. 

Hrafnhar nodded and let her fingers alight in Gault’s palm so he could pull her upright. “Remember those Arcona colonists I was telling you about?” 

She nodded. The marks he’d put away for a rainy day. 

“Well, I’ve got the perfect racket to skim a little profit off of those moisture farming saps,” his green eyes were bright with possibility. “Salt.” 

“I’m listening.” She let go of his hand and stood facing him in his room. 

“I used to know this spacey Arconan bagman back on Nar Shaddaa. Thought the guy was a spicehead for the longest time.” Gault’s smile twisted to just a little more wicked. “Turns out I was only half-right. This guy’s cravings were for something else.” 

“Guy was addicted to salt?” Hrafnhar asked, almost unbelieving. The only reason she _did_ believe it was that Gault planned to use the information in a scam, and, more importantly, that there was nothing to be gained by scamming _her_ about it. 

Except maybe a laugh, which Gault certainly wasn’t _above_ (Gault wasn’t _above_ most things), but their relationship seemed just a little deeper than that. 

“Arconans get addicted to salt,” she nodded as she understood. “And you’re going to use that somehow.” 

“Can’t say for certain,” Gault shrugged. “But I’ve got my suspicions. One night, after making our handoff in some dive diner, he orders some garbage soup and dumps and entire shaker of salt into the bowl. Shoulda _seen_ the way this guy went at the stuff before stumbling out of the place like it’s last call.” 

“So you get the Arconans addicted to salt and keep supplying them for money, basically a spice-ring but the authorities can’t arrest you for _salt_.”

Gault nodded. “We’re gonna sell those colonists the answer to all their woes, specially formulated and offered exclusively through Roing Industries.” 

“It’s certainly clever,” Hrafnhar said, already spotting a problem. “But they’re moisture farmers. They don’t have a lot we can squeeze out of them.” 

“But it’ll be consistent.”

“Which involves remaining consistent ourselves,” Hrafnhar sighed. “Which I can’t promise. Not with SIS trying to crawl up my ass.” 

Gault frowned. His scowl grew. “You’re right.” 

“We’ll think of something, but this isn’t really worth our time.” 

She left Gault to his sulking and headed back to her room for the night, wishing that Gault’s scheme had been something _better_ because she could use a good scheme to quiet this bright feeling in her chest like she’d done the right thing. 

It was probably just that she’d been _clever_. 

And she did enjoy being clever. 


	12. Buir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar revisits Hoth, a planet she is all-together too familiar with and discovers something vitally important.

The coordinates took them to Hoth and Hrafnhar spent five whole minutes glowering at the world in the front window before she headed back to the holoterminal to figure out what _exactly_ was worth coming _back_ to Hoth for. 

Hoth had been _formative_ and when she’d left it’d been with a vow to never return. She was done with the ice and the snow and the wampas. She could feel the chill even as she hovered in orbit. 

Chiss didn’t _get_ cold really, at least not like other species (humans) did. They were resistant to the temperatures on Hoth and Csilla and Csaplar, which is why the Ascendancy had as many bases on Hoth as it did. ‘Helping out their Imperial Allies’. 

Hrafnhar bit down on the inside of her cheek and allowed herself a moment of worry. If there was even a _chance_ this hunt would take them near the Aristocra’s base, she might have to turn it down. 

But then she ran the risk of having to either _explain herself_ or let Torian think she was a coward. 

And she really, awkwardly, wanted Torian to think well of her. 

Hrafnhar sighed and hit the intercom to summon the rest of the crew. When they were assembled she flashed her best, cockiest, smile at Mako. “Open a secure channel on the frequency we got from the Blacklist.” 

Mako nodded and tried. “Come on,” she urged the weak signal. “Signal strength is really poor.” 

“Hoth’ll do that,” Hrafnhar shrugged, trying to play down her own antsiness.

“There we go,” Mako exhaled and then sighed as the message crackled with static. “Sort of.” 

“It’s fine,” Hrafnhar said out of the corner of her mouth, and then her eyes were fixed on the tall chiss figure in Ascendancy finery. 

Hrafnhar’s heart hit her boots. 

“This is… unexpected.” The Aristocra, because only an Aristocra would dress that finely on a military base. Hrafnhar was all too aware of how similar she was to her mother in the face. Maybe the different hairstyles would be enough to throw him off. One way or the other, she had to play this cool. 

Heh, cool. On Hoth. 

<< Are you the bounty hunter? >> He asked in Cheunh. 

“Yeah,” Hrafnhar replied in basic, _clinging_ to her Republic accent. “Basic, please? So my crew doesn’t think there’s anything fishy going on.” 

_Shit shit and more shit_. 

“Of course,” The Aristocra said. “I greet you on behalf of the Chiss Ascendancy. I am Aristocra Shah’adrom’ilithyr.” 

She wanted to ask about her mother, just to know what the odds of running into her were. Maybe Theas had gone back to Csaplar. Maybe she was dead.

There was a sting in Hrafnhar’s heart at the thought. 

_Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadaas'la_ , she told herself. She was a mandalorian now. She wasn’t going to run from childhood shadows. 

“This holofrequency hasn’t had an inquiry in quite some time.” Aristocra Hadro said. “I believed there were no longer any interested parties.” 

“Surprise,” Hrafnhar spread her arms a little and waggled her fingers. 

“I need someone to hunt the Trandoshan pirate lord, Regenet Vause. Are you such an individual?” 

“Yes I fucking am.” Hrafnhar leaned into crassness. She leaned into disrespect. She leaned into whatever it was that made her keep from holding her weight stiffly, anything that made her _her_ instead of the Ascendancy’s puppet. 

She knew the name, Regnet Vause. He hunted in Chiss space and had just gotten going when Hrafnhar left the Ascendancy. 

_Your mother would be proud of you for taking him out_. 

Hrafnhar frowned at the thought and at the world at large. “You got a location?” 

“He’s on Hoth, which I’d have thought would be safe from that filthy reptile.” Aristocra Hadro wrinkled his nose with disdain. It was familiar. It ached at the corners of her long-dry tear ducts. “Vause appears to have joined up with the White Maw, a massive confederacy of pirates pillaging Hoth’s starship graveyard. Their raids have reduced our salvage operations to smoking wreckage.” 

“Ah, pirates,” she sighed. “Don’t suppose there are any extra bounties out there kicking it, are there?” 

“None that you need concern yourself with. The Imperial soldiers will handle the White Maw; however, Vause is worth more to us alive.” 

“Alive I can do,” Hrafnhar agreed. 

“Our patrols recently captured one of the White Maw pirates out in the wastes. It may be able to point you to Vause once you arrive.” 

“Thanks.” Hrafnhar swallowed. “I’ll need landing clearance and full access to the surface.” 

“Argeed,” said the Aristocra. “Contact me when you’ve secured Vause.” 

The conversation ended and Hrafnhar felt like she was going to tip over but she refused flatly to show any weakness in front of her crew. “It’ll take a bit to get clearance, even with the Ascendancy, paperwork has to go through bureaucrats. It’s _better_ than the Empire but not by much. Mako, I want you and Gault to resupply, I’ll take Torian down to the surface with me.” 

<< Looking forward to it, >> Torian said, ending with _vod_ and a toss of his head. Hrafnhar snorted but she smiled. 

“Get to it.” 

Everyone left to get ready, however they had to do so, and the strength finally went out of Hrafnhar’s legs. She leaned on a box and stared at the floor beneath her boots. 

“Vod?” Torian said, coming back up the stairs. 

Hrafnhar lifted her face and forced herself to smile at him. “Need something?”

“Wanted to talk.” Torian said easily, reminding her of when he’d come to her rescue on her birthday. “Been watching you work. You’re an amazing shot.”

“If all you’ve noticed is my _aim_ , Torian, I think I might be offended.” 

He smiled a little. “Less likely to shoot me if I only mentioned your aim.” 

“I promise, I won’t shoot you for commenting on my ass either, I work decently hard on it.” Flirting with Torian felt like breathing again. It was easy to throw herself into. Safer than navigating working for the Ascendancy, even temporarily. 

Torian laughed a little. << I’ll keep that in mind. >>

“Good.” 

“It’s nice to see a professional in action. Quite the view.” 

“Well, anytime you want me to change up the window dressings,” she winked and he blushed but didn’t drop her gaze. “Just let me know.” 

“I’ll remember you said that.” 

“Good, ‘cause I meant it. Now go get ready, Hoth is stupidly fucking cold and a lot of your gear’ll stop working if you don’t properly winterize it.” 

“Been here before?” 

“Couple of years ago. I don’t really want to get into it.” 

* * *

Hoth was still cold and white without any redeeming features. Hrafnhar’s jaw ached from holding it clenched as she and Torian made their way to the prison where the White Maw pirate who might point them to Vause was being held. The base was well-winterized, as Hrafnhar knew it would be. Heat circulated underneath the metal floor panels and in the walls, keeping the persistent snow from gaining too much of a foothold and keeping the floor free from ice. Torian’s breath billowed up in front of his face. 

“Not cold?” he asked her. 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “I’m cold but it’s more of a vague discomfort.” 

_Fuck_ she hated Hoth. 

She handed clearance to the warden who studied Torian questioningly. 

“He’s with me,” Hrafnhar said. “We’re freelancers.” 

The Warden studied her face instead of Torian’s for a moment. “You’re not—”

“What I _am_ is in a hurry,” Hrafnhar said quickly. “I need to talk to the prisoner if I’m going to find Vause for your boss.” 

“Of course,” the warden pulled away, looking unconvinced. “The prisoner is right this way. Little rat has been nothing but trouble.” 

He led them to the cells and Hrafnhar blinked in surprise to see… a jawa. 

What the _fuck_ was a Jawa doing on Hoth? 

“How’s he been trouble?” Hrafnhar asked, looking back to the warden. “He’s in a cage.” 

And out of his mind if he was here willingly, but Hrafnhar felt that way of just about everyone she met on Hoth. 

She’d been stationed here for four long years. Four years she had done her best to forget about but now that she was back the memories pressed against her like teeth. 

“It’s slipped out of its cell six time since the patrols brought it in,” the warden explained. “Don’t ask me how. Never makes a run for it though.” He scowled at the Jawa like this was a personal failing on its end. “Just noses around and starts taking things apart. It’s driving me crazy.” 

Hrafnhar gave a singular snort of laughter that was met with increased glaring from the Warden. 

<< Ooh, >> jabbered the Jawa, making grabby hands at Torian. << space armor! Good color, you paint? Many lights! >> its eyes roamed over to Hrafnhar. << And fly-box! Zoom! Yes? It have flame-maker too? >>

“Think all the White Maw will be this threatening?” Torian said. Hrafnhar, through all the shit in her head, couldn’t tell if he was disappointed, being funny or both. 

“Good luck understanding it,” the warden said. “Show yourself out when you’re finished.” 

He left and Hrafnhar got the feeling he’d be trouble. 

But she couldn’t focus on that because in her distraction, small hands had snagged her left blaster and busied it away into the cage to be studied. 

_How the fuck did he…_ “Give that back!” 

<< This nice blaster, >> praised the Jawa. << You have big hands. How you hold this? >>

“You know what they say about big hands,” Hrafnhar said, holding out a hand for her weapon. “Give it back.” 

<< Okay, here you go. >> The Jawa was at least amicable. That was something. 

Hrafnhar holstered her blaster and stepped back from the cage. “I need information on Vause.” 

<< Boss Vause? >>

Hrafnhar nodded. 

<< Boss Vause kinda crazy. Always go find harm out in white sand with not cold-clothes. One time, drag himself back to camp, feet like ice, armor chewed off, fistfull of wampa pelts in teeth. >> the Jawa shook itself. << Boss Vause drag Blizz along on hunt in cold white sand, sic crew on Blizz like pack of womp rats. >> Blizz shrugged. << Can’t go back now. >>

Which explained why he hadn’t tried to make a run for it. 

Also he seemed… distractible. Maybe that was a Jawa thing. 

“Any idea where he is?” 

Blizz touched his cheeks under his big brown hood and tilted his head back and forth like he was thinking. << Blizz been here little while now. Make good guess though. Try hunting camp boss Vause drag Blizz to. Down in big ice cave. It not far. Maybe he still there. >>

“Thanks.” 

<< Boss Vause always fighting and killing. Scary, scary. You not have to chase him. Be careful! >>

Hrafnhar and Torian left the prison, but Hrafnhar couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. She walked more quickly until they reached the elevator that would take them up to Hoth’s surface, then she stepped into Torian just a little and tripped over the Mando’a << When outside, need to talk. >>

Torian nodded. 

The sun was glaringly bright over the white snow. Hrafnhar rented a winterized speeder and rode out a short distance before she pulled over and exhaled. 

“Look. There might be trouble. I think the Warden recognized me.” 

“You wanted by the Chiss?” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “My mother’s an Aristocra. When I left she sent bounty hunters after me but they always seemed bent on capturing me alive. I don’t know…” Hrafnhar stopped as the truth caught up with her. 

Her mother would have put out a death mark when it became apparent that Hrafnhar—that Rinnac—wasn’t going to go home. 

She felt like she was going to vomit. She clenched her jaw closed. 

“We’ll handle it,” Torian said. “Right now they need you to find Vause.” 

Hrafnhar nodded and exhaled through her nose. “There’s probably a death mark on me. If that Warden gets confirmation on my identity, things could get interesting.”

“So we find Vause fast.” 

“Yeah. Let’s find Vause fast.” She could worry when Hoth was tasting exhaust.

* * *

They found Vause’s camp in the ice cave Blizz had indicated, showing other hunters how best to take out an Icestomper as a way to honor Scorekeeper. Hrafnhar had dealt with Trandoshans and Scorekeeper before. As religions went, it wasn’t the weirdest. She didn’t get it, but Hrafnhar didn’t get any religion. 

Probably this had something to do with her upbringing. 

<< I hear you, >> snarled Vause, turning away from the beast he and his cronies had just brought down. << Who lurks in darkness while we feast? Carrion-eaters are unwelcome here. Do not intrude on this hunt. >>

“I’m on a hunt of my own,” Hrafnhar said, her voice echoing through the ice cave. The hunt was steadying and familiar. It was almost a shame that it had gone this quickly. “And you’re the quarry.” 

<< Hsst, >> Vause turned to face her, six-feet of muscle and scale with his own smattering of scars. << Man-hunter, I will never know that shame. Not from the like of you or any other. >>

<< I have torn eyes from Wookiee chie—>>

Hrafnhar shot him in the knee. “I don’t have time for speeches.” 

The other hunters snarled and charged, forcing Hrafnhar away from Regenet Vause as they attacked her and Torian. But combat was a familiar dance and it was a relief to think about something that wasn’t the star-damned Ascendancy for a few minutes. 

Vause, to his credit, didn’t try and crawl away. He forced himself to his feet and came at her, favoring his leg badly. They pair fell onto the ice, scrapping and clawing at one another, Vause having the upper hand because _he_ didn’t need to take her alive. 

With his claws he raked across her stomach and Hrafnhar _screamed_. She slammed her blaster into the side of his head and forced them both over. She hammered blows into his unprotected skull, tearing up her blue knuckles on his teeth but eventually beating him into submission long enough to freeze him with her S86k. She stood up, clutching the long scrapes on her abdomen and surveyed the carnage. Torian had done well and was finishing off the last of the hunters who hadn’t been smart enough to run away. 

“You’re hurt,” Torian observed. 

“Eh,” Hrafnhar answered noncommittally. She was. It was a small miracle that Vause hadn’t actually succeeded in disemboweling her. 

She kicked the carbonite once lightly for good measure. There was nothing _worse_ for a Trandoshan than to be taken alive. Hrafnhar felt a little bad about it, of course, she’d already stolen his jagganath points by carboniting him, there was no point in unfreezing him now. 

If he hadn’t almost disemboweled her, she’d probably feel worse, but he had and she didn’t. 

“K’atini,” Torian said conversationally. “It’s only pain.” 

“I know,” she gave him a small smile. “Mandalore told me the same thing when we went hiking and I tripped on a loose rock and fell half-way down a fucking mountain. ‘Get up, you’re tougher than this, don’t let it beat you’.” 

“Armor not fit right?”

“The blood give it away or is this just my color?” She rummaged around in a pocket for some bandages. “It’s fine. I took it off a dead guy so it’s no surprise it doesn’t fit right. Usually I go with-fucking-out, but I’m trying to at least look the fucking part.” She wound the medicated strip around her middle, holding her shirt hem in her teeth while she worked. When she finished she spat it out and shivered. “I fucking hate Hoth.” 

“Familiar with it?” Torian asked. 

Hrafnhar opened her mouth to give an honest answer, realized what she was about to do, and closed her mouth again. “I keep telling Mako I don’t talk about my past, figured that would have percolated through.” 

To his credit, Torian just smiled. “Can’t blame me for wanting to know.” 

“Didn’t realize I was so interesting,” she lied. 

“You are.” 

At least he didn’t do a lot of shoegazing, Hrafnhar had to admit that that was flattering. If Mako was going to put the moves on Torian, she was going to have to move fast. 

Torian helped her load up Vause on the back of the speeder so there was enough room for the three of them without having to worry about Vause missing any pieces when they delivered him. 

“You remind me of someone,” Torian said as he checked the straps, just to be safe. “Friend of mine, Corridan Ordo.”

“Did he _also_ have a great ass?” Hrafnhar asked, in high spirits from the easy and successful hunt. 

Torian snorted and shook his head. “Great alor’ad. Served with him an his clan on Eriadu. Told you about that, right?” 

Hrafnhar shook her head, wondering was ‘alor’ad’ meant. “I don’t think so, and I’m usually paying attention to more than your mouth when you talk.” 

“Sent in to secure a weapons factory. Half the planet is factories. Like Coruscant but dirtier.” 

“Never been,” Hrafnhar admitted. “I haven’t worked much in Republic space. So how was the weapons factory?”

Torian shrugged. “Pretty quiet, except for the snipers and mines. Real trouble was waiting in the factory.” He gave her a small, thin smile. “Resistance fighters,” he shrugged. “Geared with stealth generators. Hiding among the workers.” 

“How’d you find them?” 

“Stealth fields don’t fool thermal detonators. Corridan got most of the workers out. Got us under cover. Could have been worse.” 

“It can _always_ go worse when someone starts tossing thermals around.” Hrafnhar laughed a little bit.

“He was good at thinking on his feet. Sort of like you.” 

“Aw, I appreciate it.” Hrafnhar settled on the speeder. “Come on, let’s go turn in Scratchy and get off this rock.” 

It was a peaceful, if frigid, ride back to the base. Torian radiated heat from his gloved hands and he had them set on her hips to avoid putting pressure on her new claw marks. 

He could put his hands _elsewhere_ , Hrafnhar thought. Though admittedly, preferably not while she was driving. 

They strolled into the base with Vause and the thin hairs on the back of Hrafnhar’s neck stood on end. This _wasn’t_ the base she’d served on, but it might as well have been. She wanted to hand Vause over and get back into space. Put Hoth in the rearview. 

“You tense up,” Torian said lowly. “Like a manka cat backed into a cave.”

“Thanks, Torian,” Hranfhar scowled at the floor. “That’s very helpful.”

They headed down to the jail cells and Hrafnhar put on a jaunty smile for the warden. “One trandoshan, rock solid.” She thumped the carbonite like a used speeder salesman. “Pleasure doing business with you.” 

“Let me get the Aristocra on the line,” said the Warden. He directed her and Torian to the holoterminal in the corner. “Sir,” he saluted as the Aristocra appeared in the holo. 

Hrafnhar resisted the urge to do the same. 

“Your bounty hunter has just delivered Reneget Vause into my custody.” 

The Aristocra nodded, but did not smile. “You’ve renewed my faith in your profession, Mhir’inna’csapla. I’ll be wiring a substantial sum to an account of your choosing.” 

Hrafnhar froze solid half-way through nodding. 

This was a trap. 

“Consider yourself a guest of the Ascendancy, Mhir’inn—”

“Hrafnhar,” Hrafnhar corrected. She tensed her jaw and turned to watch the armed Chiss guards as they blocked her entrance. She and Torian could probably fight their way out through _some_ of them, but she was already injured. “Let him go.” 

“What’s going on?” Torian asked, one hand reaching for his rifle until Hrafnhar grabbed it to stop him from doing anything stupid. 

“Your companion is wanted for crimes against the Ascendancy,” the Warden answered icily. “We have no quarrel with you. You are free to return to your ship. Once _Hrafnhar_ gives us the account she would like her fee wired too, I imagine you’ll leave here paid for your service to the Ascendancy.” 

“Just go,” Hrafnhar said staring balefully at the Warden. “Make sure Mako and Gault are alright.” 

Torian squeezed her shoulder. << I’ve got a plan, stay alive. >>

Hrafnhar smiled just a little, unable to feel it but wanting to trust that whatever plan Torian had come up with in the thirty seconds since things went down wasn’t fucking stupid. 

Maybe Gault would care enough to spring her. 

Probably not. 

Hrafnhar was disarmed as Torian was escorted out of the room. She let them cuff her arms behind her back and toss her in a cold cell next to Blizz’s to wait for either execution or something worse. 

Hrafnhar sat down and worked her arms under her ass and around her legs so they were in front of her. Still cuffed, but more comfortable. She exhaled, imagining the fear in her lungs as steam, rising up and away from her. 

* * *

Hrafnhar sat quietly, stewing on the problem, until the Warden brought her dinner. He noted that her hands were in front of her and sneered a little bit. “Good, means I won’t have to feed you myself.” 

“I’m in a cage,” she said flatly. “You could take the handcuffs off. Or are you worried I’ll shove them down your throat so hard and fast you’ll be pissing durasteel.” 

“Wouldn’t shitting durasteel make more sense?” 

“I intend to do it hard enough that they liquefy.” 

“Don’t see what you’re complaining about. We’ve got strict orders not to kill you. At least not until one of the other Aristocra’s shows up.” 

Hrafnhar’s heart thudded in her chest like the gait of a frightened grazer. “Which Aristocra.” 

“Given how we’re ‘spposed to treat you ‘til she shows up, I reckon you can guess.” 

That was not the answer Hrafnhar wanted. Hrafnhar wanted some Aristocra she’d never heard of before to be involved. They might just kill her in that case. 

“Thanks for the slop,” Hrafnhar said, biting down on the inside of her cheek. “Looks scrummy.” 

She fed herself, the rations nostalgic and unpleasant. By now, her crew would have probably left Hoth. Torian had a plan of some sort but when she thought about it, there wasn’t much he could do. Gault might be able to sweet talk her out of this, but he’d need the right angle and _she_ couldn’t think of one. 

Hrafnhar curled her knees to her chest and set her chin on them. This hadn’t been how she wanted to reunite with her mother. Granted, part of the point had been that she _hadn’t_ wanted to reunite with her mother, but in the nightmares where it happened Hrafnhar was free, able to hold her chin up. Now she’d be presented as a prisoner. 

The disdain on her mother’s face would probably kill her as surely as the cold. 

She forced her thoughts off her mother, but there wasn’t much to do _but think_ in her cell. Hrafnhar hated quiet moments when she was forced to reflect. It was like a private hell. 

She probably had actual feelings for Torian. That was a box of loth-cats she didn’t want to deal with. Having feelings went against everything she stood for. 

And if it weren’t for this stupid prison cell she wouldn’t have to think about it. Hrafnhar slammed her heel into one of the bars in defiance. 

She couldn’t picture Gault, Mako and Torian sticking together without her there. She just had to wonder who would take the ship. Probably Gault, he was the craftiest and wouldn’t have much trouble talking Mako into giving him _The Varactyl’s Nipples_. Torian wouldn’t let Mako wander around by herself at least. 

They’d probably be fucking within a year of her death at Aristocra Theas’s hands. 

Hrafnhar groaned and looked up at the ceiling, she was back to thinking about her mother. Perfect. 

Maybe she felt this way because she was _such_ a disappointment. Her mother had had such high hopes for her and Hrafnhar had spat on them. Spat on the whole Ascendancy. All of it. 

<< Big Friend want out cell? >>

Hrafnhar’s head snapped up. She looked at Blizz. “Fuck yes I want out of this cell.” 

Blizz, who had gotten himself out of his own cell without any difficulty, fiddled with something and then kicked the furthest bar. The hinges swung free. Hrafnhar exited her cell and flipped her braid over her shoulder. Hidden in the gold cap at the end her of her braid was a long thin instrument that she could use to break open the electrocuffs. Hrafnhar rubbed her wrists and looked back at Blizz. “Don’t suppose you know where they put my gear, do you?” 

<< Blizz help look! Find many things. Betcha put in weapons-place with other boom-booms. >>

“Yeah,” Hrafnhar nodded. “Probably in the armory.” 

She and Blizz crept out of the prison, watching for patrols. Hrafnhar spotted a lone guard and whistled for him before ducking behind the wall. When he came to investigate she slammed his head into the wall and threw him to the floor, taking his blaster off him. “Strip if you don’t want me to paint the floorboards with your fucking brains.” 

When he stripped she shot him anyway, one clean shot right between the eyes because otherwise he would have definitely raised the alarm. She changed into his uniform, it didn’t fit great, and it felt familiar enough to make her skin crawl, but it meant that she wouldn’t be _immediately_ identified as an escaped prisoner. 

“Blizz?” 

<< Yes? >>

“Stick close and look dejected.” 

Blizz was… not good at it, but he tried. They were sneaking passed the communications room when things to a turn for the absurd. 

“Release her _immediately_.” 

It sounded like Mandalore. 

Hrafnhar paused and peeked through the doorway. 

It _was_ Mandalore. His holo was standing lifesize, arms folded across his chest as he glared at Aristocra Hadro. 

“I’m afraid, as I’ve explained, Mhir’inna’cspala, is considered a person of interest by someone in the Chiss government.” 

“ _Hrafnhar_ ,” Mandalore growled. “Is my daughter. Unless her crimes mount to something more substantial than defection, I demand her immediate release.” 

“Your… daughter?” Hadro.

“Yes.” Mandalore said flatly. “My daughter. You are risking an _incident_ between us and make no mistake, I will burn your command down around your bright blue ears unless she is freed.” 

Hrafnhar stared at the uncompromising man on the holo. Her… father. 

It… meant something?

She’d thought it was just ceremony. She was a mandalorian and _that_ meant something but surely they hadn’t expected her to think Mandalore really considered her his child. 

“Her… mother… is the one who requested her imprisonment.” 

“Whoever Hrafnhar was before,” said Mandalore, “she is a Mandalorian now, and she is under my protection.” 

Hadro buckled. “I’ll have her released immediately. We are _allies_ after all.” 

Hrafnhar cleared her throat and stepped into the room. “I took care of most that myself,” she folded her arms over her chest. “ _Ni ceta, buir_ ,” she said to Mandalore, remembering the most polite version of sorry Torian had taught her. 

He’d also said to only use it in _extreme_ cases. This felt like the right time.

Mandalore chuckled a little and looked at Hadro. “Only my daughter would be so brazen.” 

“Where did you get the uniform?” Asked Hadro. 

“I killed a guard.” Hrafnhar said. “You guys were going to execute me. It seemed like the smart move.” 

Hadro looked back at Mandalore and then away, deciding not to risk it. “I’ll have your effects returned to you at once, Ms. Lok.”

“I’ll be taking Blizz too.” Hrafnhar pushed her luck. 

Hadro frowned but nodded. 

* * *

_The Varactyl’s Nipples_ was still hooked to the orbital when Hrafnhar and Blizz reached it. Hrafnhar, surprised, tried not to be touched about it. She opened the hatch. “Honey, I’m home.” 

“I thought you were bantha fodder,” Gault said, coming out of his room, the first to address her. “We were planning our next move.” 

The absence of Mako and Torian was noteworthy and a little annoying. Hrafnhar had hoped that they’d have waited a _little_ longer before jumping each other. Particularly after her insights into having feelings about Torian, she didn’t want to deal with their fucking noises. 

“It worked!” Torian said from up top. Coming down the stairs. “I hoped, but nothing is certain.” 

“Way to call my old man.” Hrafnhar said, cheered as Mako came out of her room. “What gave you the idea?” 

“Wouldn’t want to see my loved ones imprisoned. Same principle.” 

“Vor’e,” Hrafnhar thanked him. “You really saved my ass with that, Torian.” 

Damn it, now that she knew she had feelings for him it was a lot harder to not act on them and a lot more frustrating to not know where they stood. Stupid prison introspection. 

In her distraction she failed to notice Mako coming in for a hug until it was too late. She blinked and awkwardly hugged the other woman back. But only for a second because she didn’t need anyone thinking she’d gone soft. 

Clearing her throat and stepping away, Hrafnhar took the chance to introduce the newest member of the team. “This is Blizz. He’s our new tech expert,” she gestured to the Jawa that had somehow gotten his hands on her blaster again. “He busted me out so he gets to stay.” She turned around and took the weapon from him. “Did I miss anything interesting?” 

“Not really,” Gault said lazily. “You were only imprisoned for about twelve hours.” 

“It felt like a _week_.” 

“A cage’ll do that,” Gault said sagely. Hrafnhar doubted he’d ever actually seen the inside of a prison cell and if he had, she didn’t want to know about it. It might kill some of the magic. 

“Did we get paid?” Hrafnhar asked. “I was too busy being arrested to notice.” 

Mako nodded. “It’s a _substantial_ sum.” She grinned. 

“Nice.” 

“It won’t last nearly as long as you think,” Gault cautioned and really, he would know. 

It was good to be back. 

“We’ve got someone on the holo,” Mako said, reaching up to her link. “Probably calling to congratulate you.” 

“That or it’s my mother shaking her fist and yelling _curses_ ,” Hrafnhar shrugged. 

“Your… mom?” Mako blinked at her. 

Hrafnhar said. “I still don’t want to get into it, but yes. I was arrested on my mother’s orders, let’s not make a thing out of it.” She headed to the holoterminal to accept the call. 

In a pleasant surprise, it was Bloodworthy and _not_ Aristocra Theas. Bloodworthy and the rest of the little blacklist coterie. 

“Well,” Bloodworthy said with a little shrug. “So much for hazing. We’re the only ones looking foolish.” 

“An unprecedented success,” said the Defenestrator. 

Jewl’a sighed and grudgingly added, “I’ll admit it. You’re good.” 

“Now that you’re up to your ears in credits, you’ll need an excuse to spend them,” Bloodworthy grinned at her as he said it. 

“I can think of _several_ ,” Hrafnhar admitted. Another vacation sounded nice, someplace warm to get Hoth (and everything about Hoth) out of her system.

“I bet. _But_ before you get to all that spending, we decided all this success of yours is cause for celebration. So we’re throwing you a party.” 

Hrafnhar cracked a wide smile at the thought. 

Bloodworthy continued. “We’ve procured a penthouse suite for the occasion. The best spot on the Promenade, I’m told.” 

Jewl’a glared at her. “You _better_ show.” 

“Oh, I’ll be there.” Hrafnhar nodded. “See you on Nar Shaddaa.” 

She clicked off the holo and turned to her crew. “Party?” 

There was a chorus of agreement. 

* * *

Torian found her in the cockpit after everyone was sleeping and she was drinking to forget. “Mind if I ask you a personal question?” He asked, coming into the room behind her. 

Hrafnhar took her feet off the dash and gestured to the co-pilot’s seat that could easily have Torian’s ass in it. She handed him a beer. “Normally I shy away from personal questions, but if I get to ask you one, sure. Plus, you did save my ass earlier today.” 

“Fair enough.” Torian cracked open his drink. << Are you seeing anyone? >>

It took her a moment to parse the mando’a, which she figured he’d done on purpose. Hrafnhar snorted a laugh. “Wow, right out the gate.” She smiled at him, this was a much easier question than anything about her parents. “And no, kinda got my eye on this hot mando guy, but nope, presently single.”

Torian blushed but nodded. “I’ll remember that.” He took a drink. “Guess you get to ask one now. You should ask in mando’a. Practice.” 

“Alright,” she peered at him, couldn’t keep a straight face, and shook her head. << Are _you_ seeing anyone? >> she asked, exactly as he had. 

<< Not yet, >> he shrugged. << Thinking about it though. >> He stood up and saluted her with his beer. “Thanks for the drink, vod.” 

She watched him go and gave Mako a confused look as she came up. “Thought you were sleeping.” 

“Figured you weren’t,” Mako shrugged. “Hand me a beer?” 

Hrafnhar handed one over and Mako dropped into the seat. 

“What’s on your mind?” Hrafnhar asked. 

“What’d Torian want?” 

“He asked if I was single, stop deflecting.” Hrafnhar took a drink. “You’re not sleeping because I’m not sleeping which means there’s something on that cute little brain of yours.” 

Mako rolled her eyes and then huddled forward. “I decided that this was a good time to take a crack at the encryption on that SIS creep Carteri’s datapad.” 

“And?” 

“The encryption is crazy!” Mako threw one frustrated arm into the air. “Someone threw a solid _wall_ of credits into keeping this thing secure.” 

“Must be big.” Hrafnhar drained the last of her beer and reached beneath the seat for another. 

“That’s the scary part. I mean, I’m _seriously_ getting the creeps now. What’s my family involved in that’s worth _this kind_ of money to the Republic?” Mako gave Hrafnhar an almost pleading look. 

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Mako to drop it. No family was worth this level of bullshit. 

And then she stopped. Mandalore had almost caused an incident with the whole Ascendancy because they were family. Now, more likely he had noticed that Hadro was the sort of man that could be leaned on. He probably wouldn’t have tried that with Theas. 

But that didn’t matter because he’d been willing to lean on someone for her. 

Maybe _that_ was what Mako was chasing. And that was actually _worth_ chasing. 

“This is really fucking with you,” Hrafnhar said mostly into her beer. 

Mako nodded miserably. “I don’t know if it’s about my family or Braden or just a puzzle I can’t solve. It’s making me crazy.” 

“You fuck with it or you drop it, it doesn’t change anything here,” Hrafnhar gestured to the space between them. “We’re a team, Mako. You just let me know when you need someone shot.” 

Mako smiled. “Thanks for listening to me babble. Much appreciated.” 

“Babbling is what late night and several beers are _for_ ,” Hrafnhar said sagely. “Otherwise you spend the time thinking and that’s _the worst_.” 

“Some people _like_ to think.” 

“Some people are idiots.” 


	13. Paradigm Shift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar's world is rocked when she's forced to realize that it's not just her facing the repercussions for the death of Jedi Master Kellian Jarro

They reached Nar Shaddaa and set down at Mezeti spaceport. It was a bounty hunter party so no one really had to get dressed up, but a little extra care had been taken with everyone’s appearance. 

Even Torian. 

“Home again,” Mako sighed. “I hope this visit’s better than the last.” 

“I’ll just shoot any spooks,” Hrafnhar volunteered. “That’ll keep things lively.” 

Mako shook her head with a small laugh, which was all Hrafnhar could have asked for. 

“ _Anyway_ , Bloodworthy sent directions and the passcode for the elevator. Should take us straight to the top floor.” Mako cocked an eyebrow. “Ready to hit the promenade in style?” 

“I’ll need a date,” Hrafnhar said, fixing Torian with a look. After their conversation really the only things standing in her way was confirmation and Mako’s feelings. She wasn’t going to get the former by pussyfooting around and the latter… she’d figure out. “Mako, lock down the ship. We’ll meet at the party.” 

“Just me?” Mako groaned. “That’ll take _forever_.” 

“I’ll help,” Torian offered. 

Hrafnhar turned to Gault, rather than be disappointed. “Well honeybunches, you ready to _escort_ me to a fancy party?” 

“Someday, Princess, I will _show_ you a fancy party.” He looked at Mako and Torian and flashed them a winning smile. “You kids have fun with the chores.” 

“Oh shut up, Gault.” Mako stuck her tongue out at him. 

“Blizz,” Hrafnhar looked around for the jawa and found him. “Do you want to go to a party or do you want to fuck around in the engine room?” 

<< Blizz still learning Big Boss’s ship. Blizz stay here. >>

“We’ll bring you some snacks or whatever.” She turned to Gault and took his arm when it was offered. “Shall we?” 

“Lets.” 

She and Gault took a taxi to the Star Cluster Casino, watching Nar Shaddaa pass by around them. 

“Given any thought to our next vacation spot?” Gault asked, making himself comfortable in the back seat. 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “Thinking about finding a hunting lodge on Dromund Kaas, all the amenities of a hotel for you and Mako… and Blizz I guess but Torian and I can go hunting.” 

“Hoping for some one on one time with the boy?” Gault gave her a teasing smirk. “How are things progressing on that front?” 

She wasn’t going to admit to Gault her discovery of _feelings_. Hrafnhar gave a jaunty shrug. “He still won’t put out but I’m wearing him down. My competition is adorable though so I’ve got my work cut out for me.” 

“Relationships are messy, butterbunch, just remember that.” 

“Who said anything about a _relationship_?” Hrafnhar snorted, hoping to distract Gault from the reality of her situation. “I just want to knock his boots so hard he changes shoe size.” 

“What, because of the swelling?” 

Hrafnhar grinned. 

Gault laughed and the taxi pulled up to the Casino. “You’ve got a way with words, my friend.” 

“You have a way with everything else. We make a fuck of a team.” 

They laughed together and took in the splendor of the Star Cluster Casino. Everything glittered and chimed. Serving staff carried drinks to patrons at almost every game of chance imaginable. The wealthy, pretty people of Nar Shaddaa took time to raise up their prayers and offerings to luck itself. 

Gault offered his arm to Hrafnhar. “Penthouse is this way,” he gestured as her hand settled in the crook of his elbow. “Been a while since I’ve been here.” 

“Something tells me you weren’t here for the games.”

“I play a different game,” Gault shrugged. “But I’m pretty good at sabacc anyway.”

They took the elevator up to the penthouse suite. The doors opened and there was silence. Hrafnhar could smell smoke, like the afterburn of a heavy blaster rifle. A smell out of place amidst the glitz and glimmer. Her hand slid out of Gault’s arm to land on the handle of her blaster. 

Gault unhooked his rifle and they turned the corner carefully, finding the body of Jewl’a Nightbringer lying in the middle of the floor, a mess of blaster burns. The high Hrafnhar’d been riding bottomed out. 

“Well, party’s over. We should go,” Gault said quietly. 

He was right, but there was a chance Bloodworthy or the Defenestrator had survived. There was a change to avenge them if they hadn’t. 

Hrafnhar’s expression narrowed. She stepped around the body and listened at the door of the main room.

“I’m sorry,” said a woman. “They refused to cooperate. No sign of the fugitive.” 

“No matter,” said a familiar voice. The old Jedi from Quesh. Hrafnhar stepped into the room silently. “Advance the timeline—” he paused. “Call in support.” 

He knew she was there. Fucking Jedi. 

Hrafnhar stepped fully into the room. 

The Jedi, over holo again, narrowed his eyes at her. “Thendys was certain you could be reasoned with, I was mistaken to indulge her.” 

“Yeah, that worked out _great_ for her,” Hrafnhar snapped. 

“This is your last opportunity to surrender peacefully. Don’t be as foolish as your friends here.” 

“I’m about to avenge my friends here, fucko. They were just trying to have a good time.” 

In honor of _her_. These deaths were on _her_ and that mattered. A cold fury flooded her limbs and she _hated_ it but not as much as she hated _him_.

“You’re all so eager to die.” The Jedi shook his head like he was disappointed but she didn’t believe it. He was _relishing_ these deaths, she was certain. “Adeline.” 

The woman who had been speaking ignited a lightsaber. “Take her down.” 

The Defenestrator, lying on the floor with the other corpses, exploded, providing cover for Hrafnhar and Gault to get behind the toppled sabacc table next to Bloodworthy’s corpse. Hrafnhar focused her fire on the SIS agents, needing to finish this _fast_ before Torian showed up with Mako in tow. The Jedi deflected blaster fire as she advanced and Hrafnhar fired a missile at her, knowing it would be harder to deflect and the smoke trail would block the jedi’s vision long enough for her to aim. 

She shot the Jedi in the knee and rolled out of cover to the resulting scream, Gault providing supporting fire. 

Hrafnhar didn’t close, closing with a Jedi was stupid, but she did lead her away from Gault, trusting that it was harder to block against fire from the front and back. 

And it was. Gault peppered the woman with bolts and when she collapsed Hrafnhar shot her in the head. A couple of times. 

She turned back to the holo and glared at the old man. “Make your fucking peace old man. I am going to hunt you down and feed you your own shitty entrails.”

“This isn’t over,” said the old Jedi. “There will be no more even-handed offers. Only swift, definitive retribution.” 

“Suck my dick.” Hrafnhar hung up on him and turned to look at Gault. “You get winged?” 

“I’m fine but maybe further irritating the man wasn’t the way to go about this.” 

“He’s on a revenge bender, nothing short of my absolute surrender would change anything and if I did that he’d mount my head on a wall. Possibly literally.” 

“Ah, the price of being _popular_ ,” Gault said. “I’d rather not be here when security comes to see who’s been shooting up their place.” 

“Wish there was something we could do for the bodies, but you’re right.” She clicked her comm link, voice only, and called Mako. “Hey kid, get yourself and Torian back to the ship and prep for take-off.” 

“I just finished getting ready.” 

“It’s a story, Mako, I’ll explain it at home.” 

There was a pause, probably Mako gauging her options. “I’ll get everything ready.” 

Hrafnhar and Gault hurried back to the ship. 

* * *

It was all much worse than a Jedi with a grudge. Hrafnhar flopped over in her bed reading the list of trumped up charges that had made her the Republic’s most wanted. Everyone was nervous. Gault, Hrafnhar considered, might actually _leave_ and she wouldn’t stop him. 

Mako was terrified; that was the reason Hrafnhar had gone to bed early. She needed to present a calm face and she was too generally angry to do so. 

They were heading for an Imperial vessel, _The Tyrant_. But Hrafnhar had a bad feeling about it. Not that her bad feeling mattered. They needed an ally, somewhere, and Mandalore was fighting a war. 

More than that, he’d stuck his neck out for her once, she wasn’t going to ask him to do it again. 

But sulking wasn’t doing anyone any favors so she rolled out of bed and left her room, finding Gault in the galley. 

“So what’s the plan with those Arcona?” she asked, craving the distraction. She reached past him to get herself a bowl of cereal. 

“We’ve got bigger problems,” Gault said evenly. “There’ll be other opportunities, much as I hate to the let this one go. Mako’s been acting squirrely though, you might want to check on her.” 

“I’ll do that,” Hrafnhar gave Gault a small smile. “Any advice for a life on the run?” 

“Don’t let it get to you, and use a fake name. Of course, you already know that last bit, don’t you?” 

Hrafnhar took a bite of her cereal. “So, I’m curious, how much do you think you know?” 

“Not much. You’re clearly from one of the Great Houses so either you were run off or you quit. Having met you, you probably quit. Given what happened on Hoth I’m suspecting your parents weren’t thrilled about this.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. “That about sums it up, really.” 

“Not going to fill in the holes, light of my life?” 

Hrafnhar wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Not if I can help it. Filling in holes means _thinking_ about it, and I avoid that.” 

She swept past him with her bowl of cereal and headed upstairs to the cockpit where Mako usually hung out. “Gault says you’re having a problem?” 

Mako threw her head back in her chair and groaned. “SIS should throw their ciphers a party! With clowns! And a juggling bantha.”

“That bad, huh?” Hrafnhar’s spoon scraped along the edge of her bowl. 

“Stupid datapad is _impossible_ to decrypt. But!” Mako swiveled most of the way around in her chair. “Not all is lost!” 

Hrafnhar raised an eyebrow and chewed another bite. 

“Found a holo address. For Coral. I think. I mean,” Mako looked to Hrafnhar’s left. “It _could_ be her. I sort of… wanted you around when I called her.” 

Hrafnhar slurped some milk while she considered. “Sure, Mako. Whatever you need.” 

Mako gave her a nervous smile and stood up. She swallowed. “What’s the worst that can happen? It’s not her. Or it is her and she instantly hates me. Not a problem.” 

Hrafnhar set her cereal aside. “Mako, breathe.” 

“Right. Nothin’ to worry about. Just a stupid call.” 

They headed to the holoterminal and Mako plugged in the address, waiting with clearly bated breath until a woman who looked just like her (different hair cut) appeared. 

“Hello?” said Coral. 

“Hi… Coral? It’s Coral, right? I’m Mako.” Mako said. 

“Mother of— _Mako_?” Coral looked stunned. “My little sister, Mako? I can’t believe it! I thought… I thought you were dead! How did you find me?” 

“Wasn’t exactly easy,” Mako shrugged. “Ran into an SIS guy looking for you.”

“Izak? The SIS agent, was his name Izak?” 

Hrafnhar frowned. “You’re on a first name basis with the SIS agents hunting you down? That’s _weird_.” 

Mako nodded a little. 

“Oh no!” Coral said. “Mako you’ve got to help me, please!”

“If you’re going to tell me SIS is after you? I already figured that one out,” Mako said, folding her arms over her chest. 

“Carteri’s just _one_ of the agents after me,” explained Coral (for given values of the word explained.) “Izaks the one leading them. If he finds me…”

“What?” asked Mako. “What’s he want you for?” 

“I’ve got to go. I’ve been on this channel too long already. He’s on Dromund Kaas looking for me right now. If there’s _anything_ you can do to stop him…”

“Wait, Coral, what’s going on? Why is he after you?” 

“They’re already trying to trace my location! I have to go. Please! You’re the only hope I’ve got.” Coral cut the signal. 

Mako stared up at the holo and then looked at Hrafnhar. “What is it with people never answering my questions?” 

“I answer your questions.” Hrafnhar headed back to the cockpit to collect her cereal. 

“Har har.” 

“I will say that that was _incredibly_ suspicious and I don’t trust her one bit.” 

“I know but she… I really have a sister,” Mako got a small smile that lit up her whole face and Hrafnhar didn’t understand it. “Let’s go to Dromund Kaas.” 

“After we rendezvous with this stupid Imperial flagship,” Hrafnhar said. “I’m not keen on AA guns.” 

* * *

_The Tyrant_ was like any other Imperial Capital ship. Large, black, triangular. Hrafnhar guided _The Varactyl’s Nipples_ to the right docking bay. Everyone gathered in the cockpit to watch the fleet come into view. 

“I hope you’re right about this…” Mako said uncomfortably. 

“Yeah,” Hrafnhar agreed. “Me too.” 

Gault put a comforting hand on Hrafnhar’s shoulder and gave her a winning smile. “On the bright side, if they open fire we’ll be breaking the galactic record for going zero to space dust.” 

Hrafnhar would have rolled her eyes if she’d had pupils, but instead she just nudged Gault back. “You love breaking records, it’ll be fun.” 

“Battle stations?” asked Torian.

“There’s nothing we can do about that many ships,” Hrafnhar shrugged. “You four might as well crack open a beer and wait for me to get back.”

“Even if they _don’t_ shoot us down,” Mako said, ever the optimist. “Handing us over to the Republic would probably help deflect the flak they’ve been getting.” 

“They’re at war,” Hrafnhar said. “It broke out like two weeks ago according to the HoloNet. I think handing us over is the least likely thing we’re looking at.” 

“I guess,” Mako said. But they’re putting up appearances for some reason, better not take any chances.” 

“Hence you guys and the beer,” Hrafnhar said. “I’ll either be quick or I’ll be dead.” 

“I’m going with you,” Mako said firmly. “You always have my back, it’s my turn to have yours.” 

Hrafnhar was equal parts touched and annoyed. She sighed and dropped her shoulders. “Seriously, Mako?” 

“Seriously.”

Hrafnhar sighed. “Alright, but if you get shot don’t whine at me.” 

They exited the airlock and were met by an Imperial Lieutenant. “You guys wanted me?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow. 

“I’ve been ordered to bring you before my lord, Darth Tormen. Submit to search and seizure and come quietly.” 

Hrafnhar folded her arms of her chest. “Or _what_ , bright eyes?” 

“Alien _filth_ has no right to question Imperial protocol. You will not be allowed before a Lord of the Sith armed. You _will_ comply. Willingly or by force.” 

“If your boss is worried about my blaster he is a _shit_ Sith Lord,” Hrafnhar pointed out, unwilling to let herself be bullied and confident in her ability to take out the five guys this asshole had with him. “I don’t trust you, fucko.” 

“Seize them!” 

Hrafnhar fired at the first man who ran to comply and realized she’d made a mistake. There was nothing she could _do about it_ because now everyone was shooting. The lieutenant was left breathing at least. 

“Hrafnhar…” Mako said under her breath.

“I know,” Hrafnhar pulled a worried hand over her face. “I know.” 

The airlock door opened and Gault stuck his head out. “I heard shooting, you alright Peaches?” 

“Fine,” Hrafnhar called back. “I’m a fucking _idiot_ , but we’re in one piece.” 

“Unlike those guys,” Gault said. He gave a low whistle. “I’ll get the engine running.” 

“Thanks, Babe.” 

Mako gave her a questioning look. “So… do we make a run for it?” 

“They’d catch us. Better see what Tormen wants. At least Sith are pretty fucking hard on their mooks, there’s a possibility he won’t care that we...uh… killed them.” 

“Is there?” 

“Yeah.” 

Not a _huge_ possibility. But the possibility did exist. She produced her comm and called Torian. “Hey, I need you to secure the hangar, we may be beating a hasty retreat.” 

“Understood, _k’oyacyi._ ” 

_Stay alive_ , Hrafnhar thought, but then it might have also meant cheers. Mando’a was _weird_ but she sort of loved it. 

She and Mako moved through the dreadnaught looking for Tormen, acting as casual as possible. Unfortunately, being unfamiliar faces, and Hrafnhar being bright blue, they were immediately marks as hostile by the Imperial forces. So they ended up in the occasional fire fight, trying mostly to slip past the patrols. 

Hrafnhar had had to memorize the standard dreadnaught layout when she was working with the Ascendancy at least, so they weren’t _entirely_ lost. Just _mostly_ lost.

They found Darth Tormen in what looked like a boardroom. He, a pureblood sith, surveyed Hrafnhar almost indifferently. “I see you’ve disposed of your escort.” 

“Didn’t care for their attempts to manhandle me.”

Tormen extended a hand and Mako whimpered. Hrafnhar’s eyes went wide as she turned and watched as Mako hovered half a foot about the ground clawing at her throat. “Destroy what is mine again,” said Darth Tormen. “And I shall return the favor.” He dropped Mako. 

Mako curled her own hand around her throat like she was making sure it was still intact. “Let’s play nice with this one, please…” 

Hrafnhar looked back at Tormen. She couldn’t strike at him now, but she’d figure out a way. _No one_ hurt her Mako. 

No. One. 

“Today, Corellia’s leadership swore allegiance to the Sith Empire.” Darth Tormen said, trusting he had Hrafnhar’s undivided attention. “Despite total occupation, the people openly rebel. What should have been a bloodless victory has escalated into a full-scale war. The Treaty of Coruscant is no more. I want the Supreme Commander’s head in my hand when I deliver victory to the Dark Council. You will provide it.” 

Hrafnhar glowered, but she thought before she spoke. She had to play along, at least until she had a plan. “That’s not gonna come cheap.” 

“You will be adequately compensated,” Tormen assured her. Hrafnhar doubted it. “If wealth and acclaim are not enough incentive, perhaps revenge will motivate you.” He pushed a button and a stagnant holo of the old jedi that killed the rest of the blacklist gang appeared over the table. “You have made an enemy in the Supreme Chancellor’s closet advisor. Do what I ask, and you will have your opportunity for vengeance.” 

Hrafnhar looked at the holo and then back at Tormen. “I can’t really say no to that,” she said. Tormen would get his, she’d ensure it, but that Jedi fuck needed to die.

“So long as our enemies remain on Coruscant they are beyond even your reach, but Jun Seros will not be difficult to draw out. Getting to him will put you within striking distance of the Supreme Chancellor. Corellia is where we will put them down. There are obstacles that must be removed before we can act. You will remove them.” 

Hrafnhar folded her arms over her chest. “You’ll get what you pay for. Everyone does.” 

“Of course,” said the Darth. “Some old enemies from the last war have re-emerged.” The holo flashed to show them. “A Republic privateer made famous for assisting Hylo Visz break the Mandalorian’s blockade. And a Kuati noblewoman credited with orchestrating numerous successful uprisings on Imperial-occupied worlds.” 

“You looking for corpses or punching bags?” 

“They could prove useful, but leave nothing to chance if there is any risk of their escape.” He produced and handed over a disk. “This star chart shows the last destination of your first target. Make it his final. My subordinates will brief you upon arrival.” 

Hrafnhar nodded and left, contacting Torian through audio only as she and Mako started to head back. “Torian? We’re fine, you can stand down and I’ll let everyone know what’s going on when we’re back.” 

Torian gave a small snort. “I’ll stand down when I see you, if it’s the same to you.” 

Her heart fluttered in her chest. She hung up and looked to see if Mako was still shaken from being Force choked. 

She was. Hrafnhar flung one arm over Mako’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. 

“Thanks,” Mako said in a small voice. 

Hrafnhar didn’t say anything, but she also didn’t move her arm until they were rounding the corner into the hangar. 

“Good to see you,” Torian said. 

Hrafnhar smiled at him, that flutter turning into a warm glow. She cleared her throat and swallowed it down. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” 

Once they were away from the dreadnaught, Hrafnhar hit the intercom button. “Alright, chucklfucks, front and center because we’ve got some banthashit to deal with.” 

Everyone assembled in the room beside the holoterminal. She handed Mako the star chart. “Your magic, please?” 

Mako gave her a small smile and turned to a console. “Just one sec. Okay, I’ve updated out astrogation computer. This is a pretty obscure system.” 

<< Mako want Blizz have a look? >> Blizz chirped << Blizz see things very good. >>

Mako laughed a little. “Thanks Blizz, I’ve got it.” She turned her attention back to Hrafnhar. “Last I’d heard, Belsavis wasn’t even worth colonizing. The Imperials have it designated as a Republic prison world, though.” 

“Well that’ll be _fun_ ,” Hrafnhar sighed. “Gotta love exciting jobs.” 

Mako shook her head. “That’s something I like about you. Even if your taste is a little questionable.” 

“I can taste things,” Hrafnhar said with a small snort. She waggled her eyebrows at Mako. “Wanna find out?” 

Mako laughed again. “Stop it. Go hit on Gault or something.” 

“He doesn’t squirm the way you do.” 

“Hrafnhar, my jewel,” said Gault. “You’re going to force all the blood out of Torian’s head with the behavior.” 

Torian glared at Gault, but he was blushing. 

It was Hrafnhar’s turn to laugh. “Alright, class dismissed. Mako, lay in a course for Dromund Kaas, we’ll resup, see about your sister, and _then_ hit Belsavis.”

“You remembered.”

“I have a mind like a durasteel trap,” Hrafnhar lied. “Nothing escapes my notice.” 

She followed Gault and Torian downstairs and stopped into the cargo area with Torian. “Sorry about them,” she said, not being particularly sorry. 

Torian smiled a little despite his probable embarrassment. “Got a good crew.” 

“Yeah,” she said fondly. “Though it’s looking better and better looking since you joined up.” 

“No complaints,” he shrugged. “Haven’t been part of a company since Eriadu. Missed it I guess.” 

“Well you’re welcome to stick around here for as long as you’d like. I find your company invaluable.” And just the littlest bit frustrating because she really wanted to fuck him and couldn’t figure out if it was mutual or not. Somedays, she thought it must be, but he never made a move about it. Which was sweet and probably the reason for the _feelings_ she was having. 

“Good to know,” Torian gave a small nod. “Got to have someone watching your six.”

“Friends are important, apparently,” Hrafnhar shrugged her shoulders. “Wish someone had told me that five years ago, but whatcha gonna do about it.” 

Torian nodded again. “Reminds me. That friend I said you reminded me of? Got a holocall from him. Turns out Corridan heard about us taking down Jicoln on Taris. Sent me an invitation.” 

“A _nice_ invitation?” Hrafnhar asked, just wanting to be sure. 

“Said he’s hunting big game. Offered to let me in on it. Plan to take him up on that. Wanted to let you know, won’t be long.” 

“Ooh, I’m jealous. Any chance I could tag along?” Not that she had _time_ to tag along. 

Torian shook his head. “Don’t like competition. Corridan’d spend the trip trying to impress with you along.”

“Trying to impress you or trying to impress me?” Hrafnhar asked. 

“Both. I want you to meet him. Got catching up to do first.” 

“We’ll drop you at the Dromund Kaas spaceport,” Hrafnhar promised. “Meet us on Belsavis.” 

“Appreciate it.” He held up a hand before she left. “Got you something.” 

Hrafnhar turned back. 

He handed her a breastplate. “Should actually fit. Wear it.” 

“Worried about my wellbeing?” she teased. 

“Yeah,” Torian answered immediately, like there was no shame in that. “Mandalorians wear armor. It’s cultural and practical.” 

“Didn’t realize I’d worried you on Hoth.” 

“You did. Wanted to make sure it didn’t happen again.” 

Hrafnhar smiled at him. “Thanks Torian, I’ll wear it.” 

She left him to attend to his gear and flounced into Gault’s room to drape herself melodramatically over his mattress. “He’s _wonderful_ and I’m going out of my fucking mind.” 

Gault laughed at her. “Have you tried pinning him to a wall? I doubt he’d put up much of a struggle.” 

“I would but with my luck Mako’d walk by and her pouting at me would kill the mood faster than an incontinent Hutt letting loose on a buffet table.” 

“Ew,” said Gault succinctly. 

Hrafnhar rolled to her belly so she could look at him. “I don’t even understand it, if I just wanted to fuck him that’d be one thing but I also… want his good opinion. And to make sure he’s safe and happy and… Gault… I’m used to pants-feelings but these are… they’re in my chest. They’re boob feelings.” 

“Boob-feelings,” Gault repeated incredulously. He gave her a pat on the head. “It’s probably just hormones.” 

She sighed. “I hope so.” 

She didn’t have time for weird feelingsy crap while she was playing toady to a fucking dark lord.


	14. Death Comes For The Ferryman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar deals with a prison riot, a kidnapping, and some very spicy mandalorian food.

The coordinates Coral had given them were in Kaas City. Hrafnhar waited with bated breath for anti-aircraft systems to target _the Varactyl’s Nipples_ as they came in for a landing, but they landed unmolested. Torian left to catch up with his friend, the hunting trip _conveniently_ taking place on the wet jungle world. 

Hrafnhar and Mako caught a taxi into Kaas City itself. Following the coordinates, they soon found themselves in a small building. Someone fired at the wall near Mako’s head and Hrafnhar spun around with her blaster drawn and stopped when she saw two more Makos, distinguishable only by their differing haircuts.

“Hold it right there, Coral,” said one.

Mako, the one true Mako, groaned. “Oh for the love of—I’m _not Coral_.” 

The other Mako lookalike lowered the first one’s arm. “Don’t do anything stupid. We should wait for Izak.” 

Hrafnhar moved her blaster off-center, enough to no longer be properly threatening but not enough to actually hinder her if it came to blasterfire.

“Are you crazy? What are we supposed to do, ask her to just behave herself?” 

“I’m just saying Izak will be here soon. Let’s not jump the gun.” 

Mako waved her arm to get their attention. “Um, hello? Can we talk for a minute?” 

The lookalikes ignored her. “Maybe Izak will get here soon, or maybe he’ll decide to stop for lunch first. We don’t exactly have a lot of options here.” 

“So… they’re a couple of idiots, aren’t they?” She gave Mako a smile, definitely weirded out by the knowledge that there were at least three other girls who looked just like Mako. How many genestamps like hers had she found? Twelve? “You must have gotten all of the brains.” 

“No kidding.” Mako scowled. “Am I invisible? Should I have shown up dressed in a Wookiee costume or something.” 

“We can buy you a Wookiee costume,” Hrafnhar offered lazily. 

Mako pulled her gun. “ _Someone_ is going to answer me this time!” She fired. “Hey girls! Over here!”

“Oh shit she’s attacking.” Both of the lookalikes fired at Mako and Hrafnhar, and Hrafnhar fired back. After a few moments of gunplay, the proverbial dust settled and Hrafnhar checked the bodies for pulses. She found nothing. 

Mako growled in frustration. 

“Are you—” 

“Later,” Mako said, holding her head in her hands with profound disappointment. “Back on the ship.” 

Mako was quiet as they returned to the ship and Hrafnhar laid in the course for Belsavis. It would be a couple of days of travel; without Torian and with Mako buried deep in herself, Hrafnhar took the chance to spend time with Gault and listen to him talk about the glory days. Old heists and cons that he wished she could have seen. 

Hrafnhar’s attention was split. All of her _wanted_ to focus on Gault and his stories, but a sizeable chunk of her was busy worrying about Mako instead. 

Finally, as they docked with Belsavis’s orbital and got word that Torian was waiting for them, Hrafnhar went to check on her tiny cyborg friend. 

“You alright?” Hrafnhar asked, entering the cockpit like she was worried about breaking something. 

Mako looked up and then looked away. “Sorry, did you say something? I’m sort of… half here. Not feeling so good.” 

“Yeah,” Hrafnhar said with a nod. “I sorta gathered that with the walking dead act you’ve been pulling the last couple of days.” 

Mako gave her a miserable look, like she was trying to smile but couldn’t work out how to pull the corners of her lips up. “I keep seeing those dead girls… my _sisters_. And I feel… queasy. Anyway,” she shook her head like she was trying to knock the image away. “Sorry. Did you need something?” 

“I’m… worried about you,” Hrafnhar admitted slowly, still not sure what to do with the information herself, much less what she expected Mako to do about it. “Are you… okay? I mean, you’re clearly not fucking okay, but are you _going_ to be okay?” 

Mako took a breath and this time when she tried to smile, her mouth cooperated. “I’m fine. Just… really weirded out. Don’t think that’s a medical condition.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t exactly know how to get over seeing myself— _two of me—_ die. And the worst part? Coral didn’t _tell me_. Didn’t say a word about other sisters.” 

“There are… a lot… of you. Apparently.” Hrafnhar said. She was still trying to be tactful and, frankly, she got the feeling she was pretty bad at it. “Well, there’s only _one_ Mako, but there are a lot of girls who look like… yeah. You know what I fucking mean.” 

“One identical sister was sorta neat. Three is weird. Trying to kill me? Creepy.” She shook her head. “Let’s get moving before I get even more weirded out.” 

“I’m taking Torian on this one, he just got back, you stay put and keep Gault from getting any ideas. We play this low key.” 

“I’m not his babysitter.” 

“He doesn’t need a _babysitter,_ he needs a reality check because we’re floating around a secret _prison planet_. Also, quick note: the fact that the Pubs had a secret prison planet? Way fucked up.” 

“Tell Torian I said ‘Hi’, I guess,” Mako said with no small amount of disappointment. 

“I’ll tell him.” 

Feeling better, and trying to pretend that it had nothing to do with knowing that Mako was going to be alright, Hrafnhar left through the airlock to go meet with Torian on the Orbital. 

She was stopped by an Imperial wearing Lieutenant’s stripes. The man saluted and Hrafnhar slowed to a stop in front of him. “Lieutenant Horn,” he said. “Imperial Intelligence. I have orders to act as your liaison.” 

“Kay.” 

“I’ve prepared a briefing, should you require it.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. “Unclench, Lieutenant,” she sighed. “What’ve you got?” 

Horn clicked on a holo of the target. “This is Zale Barrows. After helping break the Mandalorian blockade during the war, the Republic offered him considerable latitude to plague the Empire. Then, after the Treaty of Coruscant, the Republic retained him as their unofficial ferryman to Belsavis.” 

“Do you know where he _is_? Because I want to keep this visit as short as feasibly possible.” 

“We observed his freighter land on the Belsavis before our forces invaded; no vessels larger than a shuttle have been spotted leaving the surface.” 

“You could have just said _no_ ,” Hrafnhar said flatly. 

The lieutenant stiffened his shoulders. “Belsavis is a remote ice ball with minimal natural resources—the perfect place to keep things you’d rather forget. Which is why the Republic has constructed a substantial prison fortress here to hide away their undesirables.” 

“O...kay.” Hrafnhar shrugged because that had nothing to do with her and offered her precisely zero useful information. 

She missed the bounty board. Much easier than dealing with live people.

“Our landers can insert you into the Republic fortifications relatively near the last known location of Barrows’s vessel.” 

“Great. Let me grab my man and I’ll get my tight blue butt down there asap.” 

“It will be absolute pandemonium planetside,” said Horn. “Here is my direct holofrequency. I’m on call if you need me.” 

Hrafnhar nodded and walked with him out onto the Orbital. She spotted Torian and felt herself grin as he turned around, noticed her and came over. 

_I missed you_ , she almost said, clamping her jaw down to keep the words from embarrassing her. “How was it?” 

“Good. Brought you something.” He handed her a large sickle-shaped claw. 

Hrafnhar turned it over in her hands. “It’s _massive_. I would have loved to see what it came off of.” 

Torian grinned at her. Hrafnhar willed herself to stop smiling and couldn’t. Her hands itched to hold his but she focused on the trophy instead. She tucked it into her bag. “So you missed me?” she teased. 

Torian didn’t look embarrassed at all when he nodded. 

Boob-feelings. She wasn’t sure how much more of them she could handle. 

Hrafnhar cleared her throat, feeling ridiculous. “So, we’re going to be dropped off kinda of roughly around where the target’s ship was last seen, but mostly we’re trying to find one guy in the middle of a prison riot. So, you know, it’ll be _easy_.” 

“Got it,” Torian said with a nod. << It’ll be fun. >> He followed her to the shuttle and sat at her side as they descended, his knee touching hers as the ship rattled. 

She had never been more distracted in her life and they weren’t even fucking. Hrafnhar exhaled through her nose and turned her thoughts to the hunt. 

They had almost no information, but if she could find a trail she’d be fine. He was still on the planet. 

It couldn’t be any more difficult than catching Gault had been. 

Also, if this guy ran the Mandalorian blockade, Gault probably knew him. 

She should have brought Gault. 

Then again, having someone with access to any sort of comm system who recognized _Tyresius Lokai_ could be bad for both her as Hunter and Gault as hunted.

So maybe Torian was the right decision after all. 

They landed on Belsavis and Hrafnhar found someone who could point them in the general direction of Barrows’s ship. With Torian keeping an easy pace with her, she headed for the hangar, hoping to wrap this all quickly so she could go home. 

The path to the hangar was littered with bodies of guards and the broken pieces of their droids. Hrafnhar drew her blaster and slowed her pace so they didn’t walk into anyone’s ambush. 

No ambush, but they found a massive houk smacking around a petite zabrak woman in the shadow of Barrow’s ship. 

“Hey _Zale_ ,” the houk shouted teasingly. “I like your plaything, maybe I’ll keep ‘er awhile.” He looked up and fixed his glare on Hrafnhar. “You ain’t Zale. Tell me where he’s hiding, or I’m gonna crush girlie here like a bug.” 

Hrafnhar felt sick to her stomach. It’d never sat well with her using other people as leverage. And there were threats you made against quarry and then there were threats you made against women in your custody. And the latter was _not_ okay. She made eye contact with the woman and looked back at the houk. “Step away from her, fucko. And back off my fucking bounty, fishdick.”

“Tryin’ to play dumb? Cute. Ain’t gonna work. If killin’ Zale’s little girlfriend don’t get you talkin’ bet I can come up with something that will.” He rolled his shoulders back menacingly.

Hrafnhar drew her blaster. The houk lunged forward. Torian stepped into intercept with his electrostaff and Hrafnhar fired over his shoulder, planting six blaster bolts in the houk’s face. 

He hit the ground with a thump. 

Hrafnhar turned to the woman. “So, looks like you’re the only person who knows where I can find Zale. Where is he?” 

“I’m not stupid,” the woman snapped, one eye and swollen completely shut and her lip was badly split. “I’m dead.” She dropped her head and muttered, “Zale… why’d you have to play the hero?” She looked back at Hrafnhar and sighed. “I wanted to leave when the first sirens sounded. Zale insisted we stay to help evacuate if things got too bad. ‘Too bad…’ understatement of the year.” 

“So what happened?” Hrafnhar holstered her blaster and tossed the woman a medpac. Playing rough hadn’t worked for the houk in any direction, maybe playing nice was the way to go. 

“The central power plant failed, and the hangar doors are closed.” She hissed as she applied the medpac to her face and the bruising started to go down. “Even our ship can’t put out enough juice to open them. We’re trapped. Zale stormed off after some argument with the warden—said he has ‘unfinished business’. He took Em-three-oh-bee to get the central power plant back online… said not to wait for him. That’s all I know.” 

“Works for me.” Hrafnhar shrugged. “Hope you figure out that whole ‘trapped’ thing.” 

“You… you’re not gonna kill me?” 

“If I was going to kill you I wouldn’t have wasted the medpac. Come on, Torian, let’s find the central power plant and see if we can pick up Zale’s trail.” 

Torian gave her a small smile before looking serious once again. “Right.” 

* * *

They found Zale at the power plant but he slowed them down with bodyguard droids. They chased him down and found him right as he managed to get a forcefield up between them. 

“Whew,” he said. “Cut it a little close there, Em.” 

The astromech whistled back at him, << M3-0B = thought Zale missed excitement // chase + blaster = excitement // M3-0B reduce excitement next time. >>

Zale snorted and looked back through the force field. “Nice try— _you!_ ” He narrowed his eyes at Hrafnhar. “I’d kinda hoped the first time I met you it’d be captaining your one-way trip to lockup.” 

“Celebrity meetings never go the way you think they will,” Hrafnhar shrugged. “But I could autograph something before I carbonite you.” 

“That’s deep. You moonlight as a Jedi Master when you’re not blowing up orphanages?” 

“A Jedi Master would probably be wearing underpants,” Hrafnhar said with a shrug. Torian made a strangled snorting noise and she cracked a wider smile. 

“Witty quips won’t break through this forcefield,” said Barrows, coming across as completely unimpressed. 

“But blowing things up will.” Hrafnhar shrugged. She turned to Torian. “Keep an eye on our friend here while I blow the generators.” 

“You got it,” Torian said with a nod. “Hurry back.” 

“I will.” 

Hrafnhar ran back the way she’d come and took the elevator down to the generators. She set bombs on both of them to blast on a timer and took the elevator back up. The building rocked as the generators exploded and she headed back down to where she’d left Torian watching Barrows in the control room. 

She found Torian standing over the remains of the astromech, Zale Barrows nowhere in sight. 

“Where’s Barrows?” 

“Had a backdoor,” Torian said. “The droid self-destructed. But I have an idea on that.” 

“I’m all ears,” Hrafnhar said. “Because this was our only lead.” 

“Get the right parts, hot-wire the droid.” Torian frowned at the twisted metal. “Should have been faster.” 

“If he had a backdoor, it didn’t matter how fast you were.” She punched his arm. “Let’s go hunt some droid parts.” 

“I’ll carry what we need.” Torian knelt over the astromech remains. 

“We’ll call Blizz when we get there, bet he can walk us through what we need to do.” 

They didn’t need much of the astromech, which was good because the speeder was a two-seater. Torian held onto Hrafnhar’s hips with one arm, the other holding the droid parts. A quick call to Lieutenant Horn told them that the nearest tech center was in maximum security, so that was where they headed. 

Things were smooth until they got into the tech center and waltzed right into a trap. A forcefield sprang up in front of them and four turrets popped out of the ground. Hrafnhar went airborne, a couple of well aimed missiles frying the turrets enough that Torian, on the ground, could dismantle them. 

She landed and shot out the power regulator above her head to drop the forcefield. 

Forcefield dropped she and Torian lit into the warden droids and riot control forces that had set the trap.

Hrafnhar took a moment to breathe. She gave Torian a smile. “Get Blizz on the line, he can walk us through the repair process.” 

Torian fished out his comm and the three of them got to work. After a couple of hours, they got a holo of Barrows saying he was headed ‘to the tomb’. 

Which was something, assuming they could figure out what ‘the tomb’ was. 

Hrafnhar called Lieutenant Horn. “Hiya, any idea what locals would call ‘the tomb’?”

“Unfortunately,” said Horn dryly. “Everything we know about the tomb comes from the Republic’s limited records. It appears that most of the interaction the Republic had was with the tomb’s custodial droids, and only ‘samples’ were normally allowed to enter.” 

“So what, precisely, am I walking into?” 

“Commander Grang is in charge of gaining re-entry to the tomb. He’ll be able to give you the current situation. However you get through, if you can reach these coordinates, contact me. I’ll bring you up to speed on any discoveries.” 

“‘Preciate it,” Hrafnhar said. She hung up and stretched her neck. “That guy has a stick jammed so far up his ass a Grand Moff could use him in a puppet show.” She sighed. “Is that the future for us? Life amongst the puppets?” 

“No way,” Torian told her, blue eyes optimistic. “We finish with Tormen, we’re free.” 

She smiled at him. “I like it when you’re optimistic, keeps me from getting mopey.” 

“We make a good team,” he said with a little shrug. 

Hrafnhar smiled. That much was true at least. “Teamwork isn’t the first thing that comes to mind when I think about the two of us,” she admitted. “Anyway, we’re wasting daylight and I’d rather not be in the middle of a fucking prison riot after hours.”

* * *

The only way to reach the Tomb was an ancient Rakatan teleporter. The world vanished and reappeared before Hrafnhar’s eyes, making her stomach do a few flips and knees unsteady. She took a few deep breaths, determined not to vomit in front of Torian. 

“Not looking forward to riding that piece of shit back,” Hrafnhar said. She shook her head. “You alright? Because I feel like I left my stomach back on the ship.” 

<< Fine, >> Torian said in Mando. << Not quite hungover. >>

That was a good way of putting it. But she generally like her hangovers accompanied by an evening of frivolity. A hangover with no booze was cheating. 

She called Horn for an update and got the coordinates of Vault 44: Zale Barrows probable destination. 

It was a _bit_ of a slog to get there, but Hrafnhar focused on the fact that they were almost done. They’d find this guy, kill or carbonite him, and then get to go back to the ship. One step closer to dealing with Seros and the stupid Republic’s Most Wanted list. 

In Vault 44 they found Barrows again, this time with a small contingent of mercenaries in a fight with some Sith lord. 

“How did you—you _are_ good,” said Barrows.

“That’s what I keep trying to tell people,” Hrafnhar said with a shrug, pointing her blaster at his heart. “You’d think the title ‘Champion of the Great Hunt’ would tip them off.”

“Nobody shoot! Truce! Look, we can settle our differences, but not right here. I have to stop the Empire.” 

“From doing what, dickface?” Hrafnhar asked, her blaster dropping to point at his stomach. 

“From freeing these prisoners! These monsters!” Barrows said. “Maybe you were too young to remember and maybe you never saw the footage, but I was there when they sacked Coruscant. You know how many civilians died from the bombings alone? Help us foil their rescue permanently, and I’ll go quietly.” 

“I’ve been framed and put at the top of the Republic’s Most Wanted list,” Hrafnhar said flatly. “Pissing off the Empire isn’t really on my to do list.” 

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” Barrows lifted his blaster and fired, catching Torian in the shoulder, Hrafnhar unloaded with both of her blasters at him. They traded blaster fire back and forth until Barrows hit the ground and Hrafnhar walked over and rolled him onto his back with her foot, pointing her blaster at his forehead. << You alright? >> she asked. 

<< Fine, >> Torian replied. << Missed the joint. >>

<< Glad to hear it. >> And she was, immensely. 

She looked up as a pureblood Sith lord came across the bridge. “I would know who you are and how it is you came to our rescue.”

Hrafnhar tensed. She kept her eyes on the Sith to keep from drawing attention to Torian, remembering too clearly how Mako had clawed at her throat. The Sith were the _real_ monsters in the galaxy. 

“I’m Hrafnhar, a bounty hunter working for Darth Tormen,” she said warily. 

“Your master has my thanks. He will hear of your contributions to our cause. I am Lord Andreaus Thos. We are what remains of the Operations Group One.” Thos folded his hands in front of him. “Have our forces been able to free the Dread Masters?” 

“I… don’t know who those are.” Hrafnhar admitted. “So I’m probably not the person to ask.” 

“At least you’ve given me a second chance. We’re standing on potential reinforcements numbering in the thousands. I must see to their release. Carry on with your business, but stay out of my way.” 

Thos left and Hrafnhar looked back down at the badly bleeding Zale Barrows. 

“So, because I’m feeling mag-fucking-nanimous even though you shot Torian, you get a choice. Do I take you in alive or dead?” 

Barrows stared at her. “You’re letting me choose.” 

“Tormen will definitely torture you if I bring you back alive,” she shrugged. “Probably he’s got alligator clips and ten thousand volts he’ll just send straight to your testicles—”

“Vivid,” Torian cut in. 

“—But alive offers the possibility to rescue. Dead is dead. Makes no difference to me.” 

Barrows considered for a moment. “Alive.” 

Hrafnhar nodded and froze him in carbonite. She turned to Torian. “Let’s get this lump back to the ship, pronto.” 

* * *

Lieutenant Horn was waiting for them in the umbilical that lead to the _Varactyl’s Nipples_. Hrafnhar raised an eyebrow at him. “You here for the ice cube?” She gestured to Barrows over her shoulder with her thumb. 

“I noted your return,” said Horn. “I figured it was safe to assume you were successful, given your reputation.” 

“Gee, thanks.” Hrafnhar let her hands fall to her hips, ready to be done with this planet and these people. 

“I’ve prepared a report of your success for Darth Tormen. I have your compensation right here.” 

“Thanks.” 

He paid her and left with Barrows. She let her shoulders sag with relief and then headed back onto the ship, Torian at her heels. He stopped when his comm buzzed. Hrafnhar headed to the airlock to let him have his privacy. 

He jogged over a minute later. “Got a call from an old associate. Wants to meet at the Cantina. Wait for me?” 

“Sure,” Hrafnhar promised. “Someone else I’m not allowed to meet because they’ll try to impress me?” 

Torian laughed and nodded. “Something like that. You’re worth impressing.” 

Hrafnhar’s skin heated up a full degree in response. “Take as long as you need.” 

Torian’s smile could melt Hoth’s polar caps, it certainly did wonders on her icy heart. She watched him go with a small smile and entered the ship. “We’re hanging out for a bit,” Hrafnhar said. “Torian’s meeting up with an old friend.” 

“Torian has friends?” said Gault snidely. “His social skills allow for that?” 

Hrafnhar frowned at him. “ _I_ like him, Honeybun.” 

“A chink in your otherwise flawless personality.” Gault gave a little shrug. “And you _mostly_ want to fuck him.” 

“I mean, there’s definitely that. But there’s also… we’ve been over this.” 

“Ah yes, the _boob_ feelings.” 

“Speaking of feelings, you okay about my handing Zale over to Tormen?” 

“Zale was an irritating do-gooder,” Gault said flatly. “We never saw eye-to-eye. Hylo liked him I think.” 

“You don’t talk about her often, some partner you fucked over?” Hrafnhar said it with zero judgement. 

Gault shrugged. “There’s nothing much to say.”

* * *

Torian had been missing for four hours and Hrafnhar was starting to worry. She slumped into the cockpit, gave Mako a thin smile, and tried to call him. No answer. Another fifteen minutes passed and Hrafnhar was starting to wonder if this was what _panic_ actually felt like. She tried his holo again. 

“Swear to fuck, Cadera, if I find out this was some fucking set-up I will end you _violently_ ,” she muttered to herself. 

“Hrafnhar?” Mako gave her a concerned look. “I—hang on, message incoming.” 

“Play it,” Hrafnhar ordered. 

The center console lit up and a human male Hrafnhar didn’t recognize gave her a smug grin. “You’ve been a busy girl. Too busy. You should spend more time with your loved ones before they’re gone.” 

Hrafnhar’s expression flattened. 

“I’m extending you an invitation. An _opportunity_ to appreciate what you have, before you lose it.” He chuckled snidely. “But if your little boyfriend isn’t marriage material, we understand. There’ll be plenty of other opportunities for us to meet. If you want a chance to say goodbye, come to Hoth. We won’t wait long.” 

“Torian!” Mako said, worry dripping into the syllables. “We have to save him!” 

Hrafnhar was already plugging the coordinates into the computer. Her jaw ached from frowning and her heart was beating a mile a minute. Fear. She’d felt it before but never so keenly and for something that wasn’t her own life. She felt like she was going to throw up. 

She shouldn’t care this much. 

She shouldn’t be so affected. 

But she did and she was and Torian was in danger and she was going to walk into this obvious fucking trap to get him back because he was… precious to her. 

She dug around in her limited vocabulary for a word more accurate than _Vod_. Because he wasn’t her _friend_. 

Boob-feelings, she’d told Gault. 

_Oh shit_ , her eyes widened. _I think I’m in love_. 

They reached Hoth and Hrafnhar wasn’t surprised to see Mako suiting up to go with her. She looked at Gault and found him frowning. 

“You know it’s a trap, right?” Gault said. “Are you seriously going to walk into it just to save your boytoy, Princess?”

“Yep.” Hrafnhar gave him a defeated smile. “This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.” 

“Yes,” Gault agreed. “Yes it is.” He gave her arm a pat. “Don’t worry Bubblebutt, I’ll wait here for you until I’m sure you’re dead.” 

“And I love you for it.” 

Hrafnhar and Mako headed down to the planet’s surface. Hrafnhar exhaled on the shuttle ride down and looked at her companion. “Look. I don’t like talking about… uh… feelings. So I’d like to do this as quickly and as frankly as fucking possible.”

“What’s on your mind?” Mako asked. 

“Torian.” Hrafnhar rubbed her temples with her fingers. “He’s… _always_ on my mind. I swear that stupid Mando lives rent free in my frontal cortex. I don’t just… it’s not _just_ that I want to pin him to various surfaces and take him apart slowly, I _care_ about him and I don’t like it and I don’t understand it but I need to know if you and I are going to have a problem.” 

Mako frowned delicately and then smiled. “He likes you too. We’ve talked about it. Torian’s… very frank about things when you press him. Don’t worry about me, it was just a… just a stupid crush.” 

Hrafnhar let her arms drop into her lap and gave Mako a warm smile. “You’re a shitty liar.” 

“Most of that was true,” Mako said weakly. “I’ll get over it.” 

Hrafnhar wrapped one arm around Mako’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “I’ve got an in with the clans, Mako. We’ll find you another cute Mando. Maybe one with dark hair.” 

Mako chuckled despite herself. “You hugged me.” 

“I mean, _kinda_.” 

They reached the planet and took the speeder out to the coordinates they’d been given. 

The coordinates lead them to an ice cave. Hranfhar parked the speeder outside and drew both of her blasters, heading in on foot with Mako right behind her. 

In the center of the room she saw Torian, tied to a chair and sporting a nasty shiner. A man had a blaster to his head and Hrafnhar lowered her blasters before Torian got a brainful of blasterbolt. 

“Somebody _does_ love you,” mocked the gunman, the same man from the holo. He looked up at Hrafnhar. “I was starting to think we’d have to finish without you.”

“I’m here,” she said through clenched teeth. “What the fuck is going on?” 

“I’ll tell you, but I don’t like raising my voice. Keep walking.” 

Hrafnhar kept walking. 

“Ambush! Run!” Torian shouted. 

For his trouble the gunman hit him with the butt of his gun. “You aren’t saying anything she doesn’t already know.” 

And sure enough, Hrafnhar tensed her muscles to keep from moving as four more gunmen popped out of cover. Mako crowded closer to her. 

“You know, ‘Grand Champion’, you’ve got talent,” said the man with his gun to Torian’s head. “The overseers would have scouted you eventually. We could have helped you make a real mark on the galaxy. Now you’ll have to settle for your gaudy title and the price on your head.” 

<< You alright? >> she asked. 

<< Fine, >> Torian lied. 

“Untie him and scram before I anally violate you with that piece you’re holding.”

“Bounty hunting isn’t a game,” said the gunman, “whatever the Mandalorians think. It’s serious business, with serious consequences. Consequences you’re about to become intimately familiar with.” 

He put the gun back to Torian’s head but kept his eyes on Hrafnhar. 

She looked at Torian

Torian met her gaze and then threw his weight to the side. The blaster went off but the gunman hit the ground under Torian and the chair. 

“Cover Torian,” she shouted at Mako and then took to the air with her jetpack. 

Her aim had never been better. She dodged and wove in the air, firing off missiles like they were candy. When everyone had stopped moving she hit the ground and stalked over to where Mako had the speaker on his hands and knees, her gun to his head and her limbs shaking. 

Hrafnhar helped Torian upright, wanting to fuss for the first time in her life. Torian gave her a smile and said, “That’s my girl.”

Hrafnhar stared at him, and then felt herself start to smile. A stupid, dopey smile that she tried to squash as hard as she could. 

“I owe you. Again,” Torian said. “My turn to be bait, I guess.” 

“Turns out it’s a surefire way to light a fire under my ass,” Hrafnhar said, shrugging in an attempt to seem nonchalant. 

“Hey,” Mako said sharply. “One of these creeps is still alive and kicking.” 

Hrafnhar turned her attention to the man Mako had at gunpoint. She pointed her blaster at his forehead. “You’re lucky. If Mako weren’t here I really _would_ shove your blaster up your ass.” 

“H-how?” He stammered, staring at her. “This should have been total overkill.” 

“I am a _dangerous_ woman to fuck with, buddy. I’m Mandalore’s daughter and his chosen. The Great Hunt isn’t some fucking joke.” 

“If this couldn’t kill you, I don’t know what would.” He trembled. “I want out. I don’t care how good the money is, it’s not worth it.” 

“That’s up to Torian.” 

Mako gave Torian some puppydog eyes. “Torian, he’s not worth it.” 

Torian considered and then socked the man in the face. “Due’s paid. Finished?” 

<< Welcome home. >>

<< Good to be back, cyare. >>

“ _Cyare_?” Hrafnhar asked as they headed back to the speeder. 

“Tell you later,” Torian said. 

She could _hear_ Mako rolling her eyes. 

Gault greeted them with very little enthusiasm when they returned to the ship. He did, however, whistle at Torian’s shiner. 

“You look smilely,” he teased Hrafnhar as she flopped after him into his room. Leaning heaving against his door. 

“He called me his girl,” Hrafnhar said in a quiet voice. “I… really liked that.” 

Gault laughed. “Of _course_ you did. Hrafnhar,” He squeezed her shoulder in what could almost be described as a fatherly manner. “Love is the slickest con of all, don’t let yourself get trapped in it.” 

“I’m trying,” Hrafnhar said with a sigh. “But he’s sure not making it easy.” 

* * *

“Ever eaten Mandalorian food?” Torian asked while Hrafnhar got herself a beer late the next night. “At your adoption maybe?” 

She pulled out a second and handed it over to him. “There wasn’t a lot of _eating_ at my adoption and when Mandalore was showing me the ropes we ate field rations and what we caught ourselves so… maybe?” 

“If your sinuses got burned, it was probably Mandalorian.” He smiled at her, the medpac having reduced his black eye to a singular bruise under his eye. “ _Hetikles_. Noseburn. It’s how you know it’s good.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hrafnhar said. “Chiss food doesn’t tend towards spicy but I’m always on the lookout for new shit.” 

“Thought I might make you some tiingilar. See what you think.” He smiled at her and took the top off his beer. “Picked up the ingredients.” 

“Any time,” Hrafnhar stepped in close to him. “Also, while we’re being _domestic_ , you make not pinning you to things _difficult_.” 

Torian laughed at that. “If you get out of my way, I’ll fix you some now. Think of it as a challenge. They say any woman who can survive a plate of tiingilar is a keeper.” 

“Testing my worth through food. What do I get if I win?” 

Torian leaned in close enough to brush her nose with his nose, leaning in like he was going to kiss her. “Survive. And find out.” He grinned and brushed past her to busy himself with the stove. 

Hrafnhar who had felt her heart stop when he was close enough to kiss and had been too surprised to actually act on it, laughed, her skin warm. 

Torian cooked quietly and Mako, Blizz and Gault slept through it. Hrafnhar was grateful. She cared for Mako and she adored Gault, but it was nice just spending time with Torian, letting him tell her about his hunting trips, his adventures with Corridan. 

He set a plate in front of her that stung her eyes. Hrafnhar made eye contact and took a bite. It burned. Her eyes watered. She kept eating and the longer she endured the more she could taste things _under_ the burning. There was a sweetness. She polished off the last bit and looked up at Torian. 

“That hurt,” she wiped her eyes. “But I think I liked it.” 

Torian grinned. 

“There was a _sweet_ under it all,” Hrafnhar said. “I knew I kinda liked pain but that was something else _entirely_.” She got up to put her plate in the washer and then turned around to look at Torian. “So, what did I win?” 

Torian took her chin in his hand, fingers trembling just a little, and kissed her forehead. 

Hrafnhar laughed. She ducked her head so her forehead rested on his shoulder. Torian curled his arms around her and she wrapped her arms around him. She didn’t think about how long it had been since she’d hugged someone with both arms. She thought about how warm Torian was, the way his muscles tensed to enfold her. She thought about the heat on her tongue and the way her heart felt like it was too big to be contained in her ribcage. 

“You’re not getting out of this,” she said in a low voice. “One of these days I’m going to kiss you.” 

“I think I can handle that.” 

“And yet you keep dodging me,” Hrafnhar challenged. She shook her head when Torian tensed. “When you’re ready.” She squeezed him, resisting the urge to grab his ass. “I’m pretty much down to fuck you whenever. Just… let me know, babe.” 

“ _Cyare_ ,” Torian corrected.

“Hm?” 

“Darling, _cyare_ or _cyar’ika_.” 

“ _Cyare_ ,” she tasted the word on her tongue. “I should let you sleep.” 

“I’ll be up all night anyway,” Torian said. “This is good.” 

* * *

“One of Tormen’s lackeys forwarded a star chart to a system called Voss,” Mako said, setting caf down in front of Hrafnhar. “The place isn’t even on most maps yet.” 

“Take it that’s where we’re heading next?” Hrafnhar yawned and took a drink of her caf. 

Mako nodded. “There’s a lot of scuttlebutt about Voss’s discovery on the HoloNet, but it’s pretty far-fetched stuff even for spacer superstition. The astrogation computer’s updated and ready to go when you are.”

Taking another drink. Hrafnhar nodded. “And how are things in Mako-land?”

Mako gave her a wry smile. “What is it they say about curiosity again? Does it involve lavish paid vacations? Maybe Trandoshani flatcakes?” 

“When did you have Trandoshani flatcakes?” Hrafnhar asked. 

“Long story. _Anyway_ , I may have gone back into the SIS computers. Just a little?” 

“You ‘just the tip’ed the SIS computers,” Hrafnhar said skeptically.

“Ew,” Mako said. Then she sighed and dropped into the co-pilot’s seat. “Remember how I found birth certificates for me family? A dozen of them?” 

Hrafnhar nodded. 

“Well, I found out that ten of them also have death certificates.” 

“Ouch, you holding up alright?” 

Mako nodded, shook her head, and then nodded again. “I guess it’s just… me and Coral now.” 

Hrafnhar’s comm buzzed and she produced it, surprised to see Gault on the other end. She cracked a smile. “Couldn’t climb the stairs, dear heart?” 

Gault didn’t smile. “Can I have a word in my office?” 

Hrafnhar hung up and took her caf with her down the stairs to Gault’s ‘office’ pushing open the door with her hip. She pushed it closed behind her and looked at him, wondering what was wrong. 

It wasn’t like Gault to be cross with her. 

“So,” he said, and then he ran a hand uncharacteristically over his head. “What do you know about Hylo Visz?”

“You were partners and ran the Mandalorian blockade together, I assume you sold her upriver,” Hrafnhar said. 

“Hylo was my old partner… more than that. That blockade run was the last thing we ever did together. Like I’ve said, a _lot_ of credits were involved. When I saw the opportunity, I took off and left Hylo holding the bag. Stupid.” 

“Is this why you’re up my ass about Torian?” Hrafnhar asked. 

Gault shrugged. “Could be I just don’t like the guy and am looking out for you, precious.” 

Hrafnhar raised an eyebrow. 

He groaned. “I don’t know, maybe. Relationships are hard and credits… credits make them harder. It’s quicker and cleaner to just not get feelings involved.” He waved a hand to brush that all away. “Listen, I found out that an old associate from that blockade run is still around and kicking. A _mutual_ acquaintance.” 

The dots began to connect themselves. 

“I owe Hylo one last visit. If he knows where she’d been lying low all this time, I’ve got to track him down.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. “Take the shuttle if you need. We can play happy family when you’re back.” 

Gault smiled at her. “It’s all preliminary research right now, but I’ll probably be unavailable while you’re terrorizing Voss.” 

“Pity,” Hrafnhar said. “What little intel we’ve got says the Voss are warmer to ‘brightly colored aliens’ then they are to humans.” 

“That so?” Gault said, sounding moderately interested

“Yeah, I’ll take Torain with me.”

“Big shock there.”

“Hey, Bubblebutt, you were my first choice.” 

Gault laughed at that. “I’m _always_ your first choice, Hrafnhar.” 


	15. Voss.jpg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar visits beautiful, mysterious Voss to take out one of her more annoying contracts to date. But there are positive developments despite it all.

Hrafnhar and Torian exited the ship once they’d docked with the Voss orbital. They were immediately stopped by a young human in red and gold finery who gave Hrafnhar a shallow bow as she approached. 

“The Empire graciously welcomes you to Voss Orbital. Ambassador Yoran deeply regrets that he was unable to greet you personally. I’ve been instructed to emphasize the delicate situation you’re walking into, before you head for the surface. The ambassador is concerned that your business could jeopardize the Empire’s interests on Voss.” 

“Delicate is my middle name,” Hrafnhar lied. “And I’m here _on_ Imperial business.” 

“It’s just that… your kind aren’t known for stepping lightly, you understand,” said the poor, overworked attendant. “The Voss are stubbornly isolationist and abundantly aware of their own value to the Republic and the Empire. It is _vital_ that the Empire fosters goodwill. You must remain on your best behavior.” 

Hrafnhar started to cock an eyebrow, the phrase _must I_ rising up in the back of her throat. 

Mandalore was an Imperial ally. 

She exhaled through her nose. “Best behavior. Got it.” 

“It’s the _nature_ of your profession that has the ambassador concerned. The Voss abhor discord and don’t tolerate violence within their territory. You’ll mix peacefully with the enemy here. The Voss revere their mystics; deal with them carefully or, preferably, not at all. Also, outsiders are barred from Voss-Ka proper.” 

“Got it.” Hrafnhar gave him a bored thumbs up. 

“I will let Ambassador Yoran know to expect you. Head to his office once you’ve landed. Have a safe visit.” The attendant shuffled off and Hrafnhar looked to Torian for his opinion. 

“Empire’s stepping lightly, smells like trouble,” he said. 

Hrafnhar nodded. “Yes it fucking does.”

They headed out to the the shuttle and Torian settled into the seat next to her. << How physical can I be? >> he asked. 

<< Physical as you want, cyare. >>

Torian laughed a little and moved his knee so it knocked into hers. << Been strange, spending so much time with non-mandalorians. People don’t touch each other like I’m used to. >>

<< I can’t relate. Chiss don’t really do PDAs. >>

<< Not sexual or romantic touching. >> Torian explained. << Casual things. >>

Hrafnhar raised an eyebrow. 

<< You’ll see, >> he told her. 

They landed on the planet, a landscape of burned orange and crimson unlike any of the planets work had taken her before. Breathing in lungfuls of crispy—almost woody—air, Hrafnhar and Torian headed immediately for Ambassador Yoran’s office. 

“You came promptly, thank the stars,” said an aging human male Hrafnhar identified as probably being the Ambassador. “The less time you spend mixing with the locals, the better. I trust my aide was quite explicit in informing you of the need for discretion here.” 

“He mentioned,” Hrafnhar said. 

“Despite the inconvenience of your presence, I look forward to being rid of General Redrish. That woman will be the death of me… if you aren’t.” 

“And here I was told ‘Kuati Noblewoman’ not ‘Republic General’,” Hrafnhar said, placing one hand on her hip and adopting a nonchalant pose. She. Hated. Tormen. ‘Republic General’ was not a _minor_ detail you just _left out_. 

“They are one and the same,” explained the Ambassador. “General Thelonia Redrish is a well-respected member of Kuati aristocracy, a philanthropist and a revolutionary. The Empire has lost a number of newly conquered worlds to her interference, and we may yet lose this one unless she is removed.” He frowned more deeply. “ Unfortunately, we’re going to have to take the roundabout course. Push her into the open.” 

“Doable,” Hrafnhar said. “Not the first time there’s been real legwork involved.” 

“Good. Than I’ve got an idea of where you can start,” said Yoran. “Imperial Intelligence suspects that she’s behind the guerilla attacks on our forces here, but we can’t prove it. I believe your best course of action would be to root out General Redrish’s officers in the field and gather evidence of her involvement.” 

“And this won’t somehow piss off our hosts?” Hrafnhar asked, cocking an eyebrow. 

“No violence _here_ in the city,” Yoran said flatly. Then he gave a very small shrug. “Out in the wilderness, away from prying eyes, anything could happen.” 

“Got it,” Hrafnhar said with a small sigh. This was looking to be a crock of political banthashit that she was stepping in. She _hated_ politics.

“I’m afraid casualty reports are all we have to go on. You’ll have to search around the ambush points for signs of the enemy. Take this holorecorder,” he opened his desk and handed one to her. “If you make any discoveries, transmit the evidence to my frequency.” 

“Got it,” Hrafnhar said again. “Maybe we can go scrapbooking later.”

The Ambassador groaned. “For my own sanity, I’m going to pretend you’re taking this seriously.” 

He waved her out of his office and Hrafnhar and Torian exited out onto Voss. The planet was beautiful: yellow grass and a fiery orange sky. 

<< Wonder what else there is to hunt here, >> Torian said, clapping one hand on her shoulder to help his balance as he adjusted his boot. 

The contact was a surprise, Hrafnhar had never been used as a leaning post before. She kind of liked it though, just having him near. 

<< I’m excited to find out, >> she replied as his weight left her. 

They headed for a taxi that would take them out to where the ambush points Yoran wanted them to investigate were waiting. Torian slumped against her in the seats and she leaned back against him in response. A small voice in the back of her thoughts tried to chide her for it. It was _unmannerly_ to slump against someone else. 

But what care did she have for chiss manners any more? 

The Vossian wilderness was mostly rocky outcroppings surrounded by short honey-colored grass interspersed with tall thin trees. The air was crisp and clean. Large predators, mostly nexu, hunted on the plains and more than once, Torian and Hrafnhar stumbled into one’s path and took it down. 

Hrafnhar wasn’t sure what Torian planned to with the teeth he was taking, but she also wasn’t going to question or stop him. He only took teeth out of the largest ones. And patted her on the back when he’d finished. She grinned with each one.

They located the Republic forces and crept around back to surprise them. Hrafnhar springing out of the tall grass with her jetpack to rain missile fire down on the hapless soldiers and then landing to go through the pockets. 

In this fashion she began assembling a map. 

The map took her to a Republic base built into a cave in the wilds. 

Inside, she and Torian moved carefully, slaughtering the troops ruthlessly so there would be no one to report back that she was responsible. 

In the back of the cave, Hrafnhar and Torian ran into the base commander, a nautolan male, who was trying to contact his perimeter (they were dead) while checking to make sure some charges were primed. 

“Yeah, your perimeter’s a little tied up.” Hrafnhar said, blaster pointed at the back of the man’s head. 

He turned, dodging to the side. “Shit that was fast! No time! Hit her with everything we’ve got!” 

Hrafnhar flung herself out of the way, half-behind the tent they’d set up as an operations room and fired back, providing covering fire for Torian and his electrostaff. The last of the Republic defenders went down and Torian clapped her on the back with a smile. Hrafnhar kissed him on the cheek, despite herself, and then investigated the communications terminal to learn what she could. 

The Pub soldiers had wrapped the terminal in detonite. Hrafnhar looked up at Torian. “I think this requires your special touch, _cyare_.” 

Torian knelt down by the console and looked it over. “This was to cover tracks, not kill.” 

He scrounged around for some tools and started to take the charges off the terminal, moving carefully but quickly. Then he replaced a couple of wires and the terminal flickered to life. “There.” 

“ _Vor’e_ ,” Hrafnhar said, stepping up to the terminal and rifling through the messages. She found some between the base and General Redrish mentioning gormak attacks and forwarded it to the Ambassador. 

Yoran, flickering into the palm of her hand as she called him over holo, looked _happy_ for the first time since she’d landed. “Now what have we here…?” he asked, reviewing the footage. “Oh, this is better than I could have hoped. I might even convince the Voss to hand her over for trial with this!” 

“That’s great and all, but I need her.” 

“You’ve done all you can out there, better we not tempt fate. I’ll handle things from here. Return to my office and lay low until I return.” 

Hrafnhar sighed and nodded her compliance. 

* * *

Sitting around the Ambassador’s office was _boring_ and Hrafnhar was _bored._ She was flopped sideways in one of the chairs, her legs dangling over the arm while she watched Torian maintain his electrostaff because apparently mandalorians were taught to do something _useful_ when they were bored. 

<< Hey, Torian, you wanna— >> her question was interrupted by her comm buzzing. Hrafnhar glowered at it and rolled to sitting upright to answer. “This is Hrafnhar.”

“Whatever you’re doing, stop. I need you here immediately,” said Yoran. 

Hrafnhar raised an eyebrow. “And _here_ is…?”

“I’m at the assembly hall, on recess for our hearing. The Voss have agreed to hear the accusations I’ve made against General Redrish, but they’ve _also_ agreed to her request to face her accuser. She named you specifically to be called to account and submit to questioning.” 

“Well, that’s not good,” Hrafnhar said easily, troubled on a couple of levels but unwilling to let Yoran see that much. How did Redrish know who she was? For starters. 

“She’ll likely make a spectacle of you,” said Yoran. “But we don’t have much choice. This is the assembly hall’s location. Hurry, I don’t want the Voss to think we’re stalling.” 

He hung up and Hrafnhar tucked her comm away. “Well this’ll be fun.” She said to Torian. 

“Worried?” 

“I probably should be,” she stretched upwards. “But I’m not going to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing it. 

Torian slid an arm around her waist and gave her a small squeeze. 

They walked through the elegant city of Voss-Ka until they found the assembly hall.

“Your holorecordings,” scoffed General Redrish as Hrafnhar entered the room. “I was really expecting you to have fabricated something a little more tangible, Ambassador. And your only witness is a known terrorist.” 

There was no point in denying the terrorism charge in a Vossian courtroom. Hrafnhar kept from folding her arms in front of her by letting them fold back behind her. 

“You wanted to see me,” she said, the consonants a little crisper than she would have liked as her natural accent tried to flood them. 

“You’re a Mandalorian. Your people have made unprovoked acts of war against the Republic and conducted genocides against entire species. Do you deny it?” 

Hrafnhar felt herself start to bristle. “You don’t know anything about the Mandalorians,” she said tersely. “But I will say the Republic should be honored to be considered a worthy opponent.” 

“We’d rather you not consider being our opponent _at all_ ,” said General Redrish, perhaps a touch snidely. “Tell us, how’d you acquire this evidence of yours?” 

“You wouldn’t be asking if you didn’t know,” Hrafnhar said flatly. “It’s here. That’s what matters.” 

“This is _exactly_ why I asked to face my accuser,” said the General, turning to the pair of presiding Voss. “The Empire expects you to take the word of a hired killer, instead of a respected official who’s proven her commitment to the Voss people time and again. You will remember it is _I_ who agreed to make the pilgrimage to the Shrine of Healing to show my solidarity with the Voss.”

“An idle promise,” interrupted Ambassador Yoran. “My associate can just as easily agree to make this pilgrimage.” 

The male voss on the dias gave a small shrug. “Then take the trials, outsiders. That will reveal true character. We have concluded.”

“You have shown us much,” said the female voss. “Safe journeys.” 

Once the voss were out of the room, General Redrish turned to Ambassador Yoran, Hrafnhar and Torian. “It appears I’ve been spared,” she said with a cocky smile. “My soldiers deaths were not in vain. I’ve spent _months_ preparing for the trials.” She pointed at Hrafnhar. “They’re going to _kill_ you. Ambassador.” She turned and left. 

Hrafnhar turned to face Yoran and raised an eyebrow. 

“Well _that_ went about as I’d expected,” Yoran said. “As to this trials business—”

“Yeah,” Hrafnhar folded her arms over her chest. “What _did_ you just volunteer me for?”

“I had to show the voss that we are willing to do anything the Republic will do. You understand?” 

Hrafnhar groaned. 

“These trials are obviously deadly,” said the Ambassador. “If General Redrish were not to return from her pilgrimage, it would hardly be unexpected.” 

Hrafnhar understood, but understanding did nothing to level out her annoyance. “Kay.”

“Fadith-Ki is an influential figure at the pilgrim camp and is not hostile to us. See if he has any insight on getting you into this Shrine of Healing.” 

“Right,” Hrafnhar sighed. “I’ll head there immediately.” 

“Rest for this evening,” the Ambassador advised. “Make the journey when you’re fresh. Besides, you don’t want to _beat_ her out there. I’ll have a room made up for you in the Embassy.” 

“Thanks.” 

Hrafnhar and Torian left in search of food. Torian’s hand found hers while she was picking over a fruit stall. She felt her skin warm up. She’d never held hands with somebody before. She’d never had someone to hold hands _with_ before. 

Torian was always quiet, but he was uncharacteristically silent until they got up to their room that evening. 

“Something on your mind?” Hrafnhar asked, finally pulling her hand free of his so she could investigate one of the bright blue fruits she’d picked up. It smell crisp, maybe a little cold. 

“I’m in love with you,” Torian said, standing by the other wall with his cheeks red and his eyes unwaveringly holding her own. 

Hrafnhar dropped her fruit and stood up. She opened her mouth and the words felt stuck. “I…what?” 

Torian deflated a little. 

Hrafnhar brought her hands up. “No, shit, what I mean is that I... I’m in love with _you_ ,” she told him. Her stomach roiled like a hundred mynocks were trying to force themselves up her digestive tract and out of her mouth. “I have been. For a while.” She took a step to close the distance and Torian took several. 

“Mandalore is your father,” Torian told her, looking a little worried. “I don’t want to cause trouble for you.” 

Because of who _his_ father had been. 

_Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadaas'la,_ no one cares who your father was; only the father you’ll be.

She put her hands on his chest and curled them around his armor straps to hold him close. Torian wrapped his arms around her. 

<< My father will understand, or he’s not a father at all. >>

Torian touched her lips with his and Hrafnhar held him tighter, pressing up into the kiss like it was everything she’d ever wanted. They staggered backwards to the low bed and shed their armor, coming together again in their underthings and beneath the thin blankets. Hard as it was, Hrafnhar went slowly, careful to avoid doing anything Torian might have been uncomfortable with. They fell asleep in a jumbled pile of limbs, wrapped around each other like ornamental saplings. 

Hrafnhar woke up first and smiled at Torian’s sleeping face. She didn’t know how to say _I love you_ in mando’a. She tilted her head back and kissed the underside of his chin. Torian stirred slowly. He pet one hand down her back, over her underpants and down to hook her knee over his hips. << Good morning. >>

“We should probably go do those stupid trials,” she complained, work never far from her mind. 

Torian kissed her hungrily and then rolled out of bed. She took a moment to admire him as he dressed. He turned and smiled at her, blushing a little bit. “I’ll follow your lead, _cyar’ika_.” 

* * *

Fadith-Ki was easy to find in the pilgrim’s camp, and he waved Hrafnhar and Torian over like someone had told him to look for them. “Outsiders,” he said. “You are skilled in battle. We are desperate. I am Fadith-Ki. I guide pilgrims to the Shrine of Healing. Pilgrims can no longer reach this place. The gormak will kill any who try.” 

“I was told you could help get me into the Shrine of Healing,” Hrafnhar said.

“We need your help. The gormak have build powerful cannons that can destroy aircraft in flight. Shuttles from Voss-Ka crash. Pilgrims die. The gormak are pleased. Solve this, and prove yourself worthy to enter the Shrine.” 

“Okay,” Hrafnhar rolled her shoulders back. “Who’s ass do I need to introduce my boot too?” 

“The gormak have claimed an abandoned training camp. The cannons are located there. Enter the camp. Destroy the gormak cannons. You will earn our respect.”

“If that’s what it takes.”

She and Torian headed west from the camp, the direction Fadith-Ki had indicated. When they spotted a gormak cannon—not difficult, the things were huge—they came in low, using the terrain as cover, and killed all the gormak they saw before rigging the cannon to explode. 

In amidst the violence, Hrafnhar and Torian took time to admire the wildlife. 

<< Maybe we can come back here when we’re done, >> Hrafnhar said. << See if there’s a really big version of those shelled things. >>

<< Would be fun. >> Torian kissed her temple. 

There were three cannons in all and then they returned to Fadith-Ki. He looked… pleased? To see them. Hrafnhar was going to go with pleased, albeit a little hard to tell on his face. “Gormak cannons are silent. You succeed where Voss fail. The Shrine of Healing is open to you. Dalga-Wo guards the Proving Grounds. Speak with him to begin the trials.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. She needed to keep an eye out for Redrish, but the trials were the surest way to do that. 

She and Torian took a well worn trail from the Pilgrim’s camp North to the Shrine of Healing. The Shrine itself was massive and set into the mountain behind it. 

A voss got her attention once she was inside the Shrine of Healing, he waved her over. “Outsider. My master saw your coming. He awaits in the Cloister of Meditation.” 

“Uh… what?” Hrafnhar said eloquently. 

“My master saw your—”

“No, I got that part. What do you mean he ‘saw’ me?” She paused. “Wait. Is this… a weird Force thing? Because I hate Force things.” Growing up she’d been taught not to trust the Force, the way all Chiss were, and it was one of the few aspects of her upbringing that had stuck.

“A mystic is a mystic. You will see him.” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “That doesn’t really answer my fucking question. But alright, if you insist.” 

“The Cloister of Meditation is near, but secluded. Follow the silence.” 

She was pointed in deeper into the Shrine and wondered if she was supposed to take the trials _now_ or later. There’d been no sign of General Redrish, and she couldn’t exactly murder the woman in the Shrine (someone might see and they’d _definitely_ care about that). 

So she hurried. 

Following silence wasn’t as easy as following sound, particularly in a place where people tended to speak softly, but Hrafnhar was a good hunter with sharp ears and she found the Cloister. 

Torian’s hand touched hers. << Got a bad feeling. Something not quite natural. Don’t think these trials are all talk, >> he said 

<< I trust your instincts, >> she told him. 

In the Cloister of Meditation there was a single mystic, and Hrafnhar assumed he was the master who’d seen her coming. 

Whatever that meant. 

“Pilgrims are so few now,” he said, looking her over. “And outsiders.” 

“Yeah, that was because of the cannons,” Hrafnhar let her weight slump lazily to one side. “Shouldn’t be a problem now. I was told you wanted to see me?”

“I know of your coming. Change has come to Voss; voss must come to change. The outsider woman you see will be the agent of that change.” 

“Uh-huh. How much of my ‘looking for her’ do you know about?” Her hand settled on her hip, fingers kissing the handle of her blaster. She couldn’t cause a scene. Shooting a mystic was causing a scene. Damn it she hated this political _garbage_. 

Two more mystics, armed with electrostaves, came around the corner. 

“She told me you would follow, and your intentions. Stay in peace and leave in time. No harm will come, unless you resist.” 

“Buddy,” Hrafnhar said. “I _can’t_ let you stop me because if I don’t pull this off the asses of other people are on the line.” People she cared about. Gault and Mako and Torian and even little Blizz. She’d… she might not start a _war_ for them but… 

Okay, she’d probably start a war for Torian, Gault and Mako. But no one needed to tell them that.

“My regrets,” said the mystic. He motioned towards her with two fingers. “Restrain her.” 

Hrafnhar took her hand off her blaster. << Don’t kill them, >> she told Torian. 

He nodded his agreement. 

The mystics rushed them and Torian swept low with his electrostaff. Hrafnhar darted in arms up and hands clenched to fists. She punched the head mystic in the face, forearms up to defend her face. 

She beat him down while Torian took care of the two others, her cqc training was rusty, but she remembered most of it. She used his weight against him and aimed for his vulnerable bits. Throat, testicles, the armpit, that sort of thing. Eventually she was bruised but he was on the ground with his cohorts. 

She panted for breath and looked down at him, silently asking if he wanted more. 

“My gift is not foresight,” said the mystic. “But I see your fate is not for us to decide.” 

“Where’s Redrish?”

“She has left for Gorma-Koss. Our hope goes with her.” 

“Where’s Gorma-Koss?” Hrafnhar wiped the blood off her cracked lip with the pad of her thumb. 

“The heart of Gormak lands. There they assemble, they are numerous. Commandos stand vigil over Gorma-Koss. Their commander may witness the outsiders passing.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. “Thanks. Sorry about the beat down.” 

She wasn’t particularly sorry. 

“Go in peace.” He pulled himself to standing and his men did the same, hobbling off deeper into the Shrine. 

Hrafnhar looked up at Torian. He tilted his head and kissed her, just once. 

Hrafnhar sputtered a laugh and a smile. She shook her head, trying to ignore the heat in her skin. “Come on,” she said, squeezing his fingers in hers. “You’re gonna make people think I’ve gone soft.” 

“You worry too much about what people think.” 

* * *

Redrish was good, Hrafnhar had to grudgingly admit it as she fought through the beast pens Redrish had managed to talk her way out of. Her fighting, at least, was impressive enough that the gormak Chieftain told her where ‘doubters’ had stolen Redrish away to after she showed the gormak a couple of tricks. 

The _Nightmare Lands_ where people apparently went mad didn’t sound _promising_ but it was all they had to go on. 

Hrafnhar sat close to Torian on the shuttle that would take them to the edge of the corruption. Torian’s leg pressed against hers as the shuttle landed. He stood up and followed her out into the sunlight.

“Apparently people go nuts here,” she told him. “Let me know if your shit starts acting up.” 

“I will.” 

They took a speeder into the Nightmare Lands. Hrafnhar’s hands tightened on the steering. She felt like she was back in the Dark Temple only less so. Like something was crawling down her spine. Torian’s hands were settled on her hips and she drew strength in knowing she wasn’t alone. 

The feeling got worse the deeper into the Nightmare Lands they went. It felt like a vibroknife against her throat but she pushed on. 

They picked up Redrish’s trail, the pack of gormak she’d picked up were anything but subtle. They followed the trail to another building, some sort of temple, deep in the Nightmare Lands. 

Hrafnhar didn’t want to go in there. It felt _frightening_. 

<< I’m with you, >> Torian’s reminded her, his voice tight with unease. 

Hrafnhar didn’t trust herself to speak and headed inside. Inside they found gormak driven mad with fear and ancient droids. They blasted their way through as quickly as they could and hounded General Redrish into the heart of the temple where they found her surrounded by her small pack of gormak doubters. 

“I expected we’d cross paths again,” said Redrish. “But not here.” 

“What are you even doing in this horrible place?” Hrafnhar asked, the terror still dripping down the back of her throat. She was more than a little annoyed that she’d been dragged to such a place. 

“Jokull is out of his mind,” said Redrish. “He thinks the voss are to blame for the corruption in the Nightmare Lands, but he’s wrong. We came here looking for answers. Something to settle the differences between the gormak and voss. The truth.” 

“Wow,” said Hrafnhar dryly. “That’s really something. Maybe I _won’t_ pop your head off and use your body cavity as a storage locker.” 

Redrish clicked her tongue. “I’m so close to getting these people on speaking terms and you’re about to throw it all ways. For what, money? Tell me you’re not that petty.” 

Hrafnhar’s blaster charged up. “I’m not that petty.” 

She probably was that petty but in this one circumstance, she could admit in the subcockular region of her heart that this was about her crew. Keeping them safe from Tormen.

“Show them what we’re—”

Hrafnhar shot Redrish in the stomach before she could finish the order. She turned and open fired into the gormak, forcing them to split their attention between her and Torian. A warrior charged her, bearing her to the ground despite getting shot. Hrafnhar clubbed him with her blaster and threw him off of her with a powerful kick. 

When the gormak were defeated, mostly dead with a few injured, Hrafnhar turned her attention to Redrish, where she was bleeding on the ground. 

Redrish forced herself to standing. 

“If you’ll allow these gormak to return home, I’ll lay down my weapon.” 

“The one lying on the floor? Or some other weapon I don’t know about.” 

Redrish pulled a small, concealable blaster and pointed it at Hrafnhar’s face. “It’s a small concession. They’ve done enough dying for other’s sake. Jedi and Sith waged war here centuries ago—both manipulating these people into fighting their battles for them. It’s all painted here on these walls. Now we’ve come full circle. These people deserve—ah!”

Hrafnhar darted in past the tiny blaster and forced it out of Redrish’s hand while she was speaking, wrenching her arm out of the socket. 

“FUCK!” shouted Redrish. 

“It’s not broken, you’re fine. I don’t care about galactic politics and I don’t care about the gormak. They’re free to hobble home.” 

“Second chance,” Torian said. “Don’t waste it.” 

“Go,” grunted Redrish. “Others need to know what we found here.” She looked at Hrafnhar. “Do what you need to do.” 

“Would you like to be taken alive or dead?” Hrafnhar asked. 

“You’re giving me a choice?” 

“Seems like the generous thing to do. You’re heading to a man named Darth Tormen and he’s a _peach_. So I can shoot you now… again, I guess… and spare you some torture _or_ I can give you a medpac and freeze you and maybe someday you get rescued or the Republic negotiates your return.” Hrafnhar pointed her blaster at Redrish’s face. “Your call.” 

“Alive,” said Redrish. 

Hrafnhar administered a medpac for the stomach injury and then froze her. With Torian’s help she attached the carbonited general to the back of the speeder and they hurried back to Voss-Ka, eager to be far from the Nightmare Lands. 

“She had conviction.” Torian gave an approving nod. “Have to respect that.” 

Maybe so. Hrafnhar was mostly annoyed about it, but that might just be a left over bad feeling from the Nightmare Lands. 

With Redrish in tow, Hrafnhar returned to Ambassador Yoran. 

“I brought you a present,” she said, leaning on his desk. 

“You’re back!” Yoran looked almost pleased to see her. “I hadn’t heard one word since you left for the trials. I thought she’d got the best of you. I suppose no news is good news in this case.” He stroked his chin. “If you’d raised any suspicion in capturing her, I’d have heard about it. Whatever General Redrish’s plans were, it seems we’ve avoided the fallout.” 

“She was a bitch and a half to chase down,” Hrafnhar said. “Something she should be proud of.” 

“This is the most relieved I’ve felt in _months_ ,” said Yoran. “I might even actually sleep tonight.” He forwarded some credits to her. “Take this, with my gratitude. It’ll complement the sum of credits Darth Tormen sent quite nicely.” 

“I love credits,” Hrafnhar said. Now that the job was over she was looking forward to a nap. Maybe a sexy nap. 

“I’ll send word of your success to Darth Tormen promptly,” Yoran gestured to the door. “Farewell.” 

* * *

It was a relief to be home. Hrafnhar grinned up at Mako on the railing. “Hey.” 

“How’d it go?” Mako asked. 

“Really well, actually,” Hrafnhar couldn’t stop the grin that spread out over her face. 

“Any _revelations_?” Mako asked. 

Hrafnhar blinked at her. 

“I told her,” Torian answered. “It’s mutual.” 

Mako’s smile dimmed but didn’t die. “I’m happy for you guys. That’s great.” 

“If you’re done having feelings, light of my life,” Gault stuck his head out of his bedroom door. “I need you.” 

“Coming,” Hrafnhar said, more than a little glad to be out of range of Mako’s sad smile. She didn’t _regret_ anything, but she did wish Mako was one hundred percent on board. And maybe she would be later. Hrafnhar could hope. “What’d you need my darling sweet flatcake?” 

“While you were gone I caught up with that old associate from the blockade run. Old Quan and I had a nice little chat; he was surprised to see me, to say the least.” 

“Well, you were killed, it was all over the HoloNet.” 

“I know, I saved a clipping,” Gault said, his smile a little more grim than usual. “Before I had to end Quan’s retirement prematurely, I convinced him to fill me in on some gaps in our history since the blockade run.” Gault sat down on his mattress and steepled his fingers together. “When the Hutts came looking for their return investment, Hylo Visz smuggled herself off to Republic space with the help of another free trader.” 

“Do you know where she went?” 

He nodded. “Remember Zale Barrows? She cut a deal with that twerp to hide her on Belsavis. If she’s still stuck there, this is my chance to swoop in to the rescue. I’ve got to go after her.” 

“Need or want a hand with that?” Hrafnhar asked, biting back on the instinct to rub Gault’s feelings in his face. Which he would have deserved. 

But she liked him so she wouldn’t.

“This is personal. _Too_ personal,” Gault shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve got to take care of this on my own.” He cleared his throat. “If I don’t make it, well…” he looked away from her. “Thanks. I don’t think Tyresius would have ever gotten the opportunity.” He clapped her on the shoulder as he left for the shuttle. 

Hrafnhar frowned after him and once he was out of earshot muttered, “Good luck.” 

She shook her worries for Gault aside, headed to the fridge for a couple of beers and headed upstairs, pausing by cargo to kiss Torian while he got settled. 

“Where’s Gault going?” Mako called out as the shuttle took off. 

“Rescue mission,” Hrafnhar shouted back, making her way up the stairs.

“You and Torian, huh,” Mako said as Hrafnhar breached the cockpit.

“I brought beer so you don’t hate me forever.” 

Mako smiled at her and rolled her eyes. “I probably knew about the two of you before you did, dummy.” She took the beer anyway. “Besides, I’ve got more important things to talk about. Remember the guy Coral said was after her? Izak? The one we were supposed to stop on Dromund Kaas?”

Hrafnhar nodded and took a drink. 

“Everything else has dead-ended, thought maybe I’d try to see what I could find on him. He’s SIS, no surprise there. So there’s not much to find. _Except_ this: he’s assigned to Project 32. The same project all my relatives seem to be associated with.” 

“I wonder what would happen if we played the lottery with that number.” 

“I don’t think gambling is a great idea right now. Searching for his name tripped all kinds of security. So… don’t be surprised if a lot of uniforms are looking for us.” Mako sighed and took a long drink of her beer. “I think I might take up a new hobby for a while. A safer one. Like nexu grooming.” 

Hrafnhar set her beer down and reached over to pat Mako’s leg. “I’ll protect you, Mako. I promise.” 

Mako looked at her for a moment and then smiled and looked away. “Thanks, Hrafnhar.” 

Hrafnhar straightened. “I’m gonna get some sleep and call Tormen in the morning.” She yawned and stretched. 

At the foot of the stairs she looked a Torian and gave him a smile. “I’m heading to bed, wanna come?” 

Torian set down his electrostaff and stood up to follow her.


	16. Bad Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come to a head with Jun Seros and Torian decides he is very serious about Hrafnhar

“Ah, Bounty Hunter, finally.” Darth Tormen said, masking any annoyance as Hrafnhar _finally_ answered the holoterminal. He seemed to be in what passed for a pleasant mood. “My subordinates tell me you’ve dealt with the privateer and Kuati woman.” 

“Yep.” Hrafnhar said. “Gift wrapped them and everything.” 

“Good. The campaign on Rabaan is coming to a close. I will direct my forces towards a full-scale assault on Corellia. Rendezvous with my flagship, _the Tyrant_ , in Rabaan’s out-system.”

“Be right there,” Hrafnhar said… no, _lied_. She kicked the terminal as it went dark and headed for the cockpit. Throwing herself into the seat, she set course for Belsavis instead. 

She waited in the cockpit until a small shuttle docked, and only then did she set course for Rabaan. Hrafnhar waited a good, long while, and then headed down the stairs to Gault’s room. He was flopped over on his mattress despondently. 

“Nice of you to come get me,” he said in a hollow voice. 

“How’d it go?” Hrafnhar asked, stepping into the room and leaning against the wall. If it’d gone _well_ Gault would look happy. Or quite possibly, not have been there at all. 

Gault frowned. 

“We can talk when you’re ready,” Hrafnhar offered instead, turning to leave. 

Gault rolled up to sitting. “My little pipe dream involving Hylo went about as well as you’d have expected.” 

“She wasn’t there?” Hrafnhar asked. 

“No,” he said sourly. “I found her. After all these years I finally caught up with her and she hadn’t changed a bit.” 

Hrafnhar raised an eyebrow. 

“I mean that literally,” Gault explained. “I found her on Belsavis, in some sort of stasis chamber. It was like I’d just left.” 

She’s expected that it had gone south, but she wasn’t quite prepared for _how south_ it had gone. She felt an uncomfortable twinge of sympathy for her bosom companion. “So, naturally, she was pretty pissed off about seeing you?”

“If she’d had a blaster, she’d have shot me the moment she came to. Lucky for _me_ , she recognized that prison wasn’t the place to hash things out.” He sighed. “She took off first chance she got. Hardly the reunion I was looking for, but I got her out of that pit. That counts for something, right?” 

“Counts for a lot I’d think. Particularly from you.” Hrafnhar studied him and then sighed. “So you were just going to steal our shuttle if Hylo had been up for running away with you.” 

“I’d have called eventually,” Gault said, shrugging his shoulders. “But tell me you wouldn’t do the same if Torian wanted to run away. And don’t lie, I saw the bite mark when you walked in.” 

“I’d call first,” Hrafnhar said, uncomfortably honest about it. “I like you a lot.” 

That got a smile out of Gault. He got up off the bed and touched her shoulder as he left. “I need to create a hangover to nurse.” 

“There’s whiskey in my bedroom in my underwear drawer. Should be better than the beer in the fridge.” 

“You’re a true friend and a worthwhile comrade.” He tapped her shoulder twice and went to rummage. 

Hrafnhar returned to the cockpit and steered the _Varactyl’s Nipples_ to the _Tyrant_. She headed to her room to put on her armor. The breastplate Torian had given her was made of beskar—Mandalorian Iron—it could stand up to a lightsaber if it had to. 

She called for docking clearance and found a warzone on the other side. 

“Republic special forces slipped on board during our troop withdrawal,” said the captain, looking harried. “They’ve completely overrun the command decks. It won’t be long before we lose the bridge. If you act quickly, we might be able to turn things around!” 

“Isn’t there a fucking Sith Lord on board?” Hrafnhar asked, wondering if maybe Tormen were dead and she was free. 

“He went to deal with the attackers personally, but his soldiers are sealed off from the bulk of the fighting. The boarders initiated a complete lockdown, trapping our defenders in the sub-decks. I need you to undo their tampering. With their overrides disabled, we can unseal the locked decks from the bridge, so Darth Tormen and his soldiers can retake control.” 

Hrafnhar sighed. “Got it. Be there shortly.”

“I’m transmitting the location of the ship’s network junctions; restore the systems and we can handle the rest. I’ve opened the docking bays and disabled our weapons, you can make a safe landing if you hurry. The window of opportunity is—” the captain went down in a hail of bolts and the call ended. 

“Now or never,” said Torian, he and Mako having come up when they heard the commotion. 

“If we’re going to land, we’d better do it before the boarders get the turbolasers back online,” said Mako. 

“Mako, take us in. Torian, I want you to defend the hangar when we land, they do _not_ touch my fucking ship. I assume Gault is drinking?” 

Mako and Torian nodded. 

“That’s fine, I’ve got a plan.” 

While Mako steered the ship into the docking bay, Hrafnhar went down into engineering. “Hey big guy,” she said when she found Blizz in amidst a bunch of parts. “I need you to come with me. You ever use a blaster before?”

<< Blizz best in old crew with boom-boom! >> Blizz said proudly.

“Good, we have to undo some tampering and unseal some levels on an Imperial capital ship. Think you can manage that?”

<< Blizz real good with all tech. Big Boss be real impressed. >>

She grinned at him. 

“One last thing…” 

Blizz’s fingers clutched Hrafnhar’s shoulders as she took off down the corridor at a run, one arm hooked under the jawa’s left leg and the other holding her blaster. When they heard fighting she put Blizz down and turned the corner, firing into the Republic soldiers with Blizz shooting around her legs. When the soldiers were down, Blizz climbed back onto her back and off they went again.

Unorthodox? Perhaps. But decently effective.

Blizz’s tech expertise got them onto the bridge, his gloved fingers dexterously connecting and deconnecting wires. She set him down just outside the bridge and took out the special forces squad pinning the Imperials back against the command center. 

When the shooting stopped, an Imperial stood up and acknowledged them. “You must be the bounty hunter Captain Evlen contacted. Thanks for the rescue. Once they killed the captain, we thought the fight was as good as done.” 

“Well, you were wrong,” Hrafnhar said with a shrug. “Luckily, this is the sort of thing I’m good at.” 

The list of things she was good at was long and noteworthy. 

“We’re not out of the fire yet,” the Imperial said. “We need a few minutes to override the lockdown, but we’re finished if we have to hold off another attack. Will you assist in defending the bridge?” 

<< Blizz end lockdown real fast. Not take minutes. >>

“They probably want it in one piece when we’re done,” Hrafnhar said with a small, lamenting shrug. “I know you could do it faster.” She looked back at the Imperial. “I’m here to help I guess.” 

She held off the boarders with Blizz’s help, but it cost her. By the time the doors were unsealed, Hrafnhar was upright by sheer force of will and virtue of her beskar breastplate. When Darth Tormen reached the bridge, he choked the life out of the last special forces soldier before turning to face her. 

“My—my lord,” said the Imperial who’d spoken to her. “It’s a relief to see you unscathed.” 

“Where is Captain Evlen?” Tormen asked. 

“I—he—the captain’s dead, sir—my lord.” 

“And yet _you_ avoided his fate.” 

“Yes. I mean—no, we were surroun—” 

Tormen glared at the trio of surviving Imperials and they all grabbed for their throats before going slack. 

Which seemed… wasteful. Also, you know, an _atrocity_. 

<< Ee! Blizz not look! >> He grabbed and pressed his face to Hrafnhar’s leg. << Blizz not want to see. Boss hide Blizz! >>

She put a hand on his head but didn’t take her eyes off of Tormen. 

“I have you to thank for a ship,” he said, a trace of bitterness in his tone that might have just been his normal speaking voice. 

“You wanted to see me,” Hrafnhar said, holding her chin up while all of her limbs screamed to collapse. 

Tormen touched his ear piece. “Have this ship operational by the time we are finished.” He looked back at Hrafnhar. “I am mobilizing my entire division to Corellia. Their rebellion will be crushed. Corellia will fall, but military victory will not be enough. I do not want the Republic merely _defeated._ They must _submit_.” 

“So you need high value prisoners,” Hrafnhar said flatly. 

“There is a massive resistance supporting the Republic’s defense of Corellia. _You_ will secure the rebel leaders. _I_ will make them kneel. When the rebellion bows before Corellia’s rightful leaders, our trap will be set.” 

“And how does this get me Jun Seros?” Hrafnhar asked, remembering the _other_ reason she was working for Tormen. The chance to clear her name and live a damn _life_ again. 

“If Corellia is conquered, the Republic will send troops. If Corellia _secedes_ , the Republic must rely on diplomacy. A compact will be signed, publicly. Corellia’s governor will demand the Supreme Chancellor ratify the treaty and withdraw Republic forces. The Supreme Chancellor will _have_ to acknowledge that the Corellians have chosen Imperial rule, but not before Jun Seros convinces him that his Jedi can turn the tide.” 

In Hrafnhar’s opinion, Tormen was banking on a lot of things that would _probably_ happen but weren’t set in stone. She had a hand on Blizz’s head, however, and it wasn’t worth pissing the Darth off about. 

“Alright.” she said. 

“I have sent my forces ahead, under command of General Krau. Meet with him and proceed according to plan. When the _Tyrant_ is hyperspace capable, I will join you.” 

Hrafnhar and Blizz limped back to the docking bay. 

“ _Cyare!_ ” Torian ran up to meet them and caught Hrafnhar in his arms.

She smiled at him and touched his face. “It looks worse than it is. A shower and a nap and I’ll be fine.” 

<< I know, >> Torian said. 

He didn’t try to help her into the ship and she appreciated that. Initial panic that she was injured followed by faith that she knew how injured she was, what more could she ask for? They entered the _Varactyl’s_ _Nipples_ and Mako came to the railing above the stairs and looked down at them. 

“Are you alright?” she called down to Hrafnhar. 

“I could go ten rounds with a Sith and only moderately regret it,” Hrafnhar called back.

Blizz scurried back around her and into the engine room. 

“He okay?” Mako asked.

“He had to watch Tormen gank a couple of motherfuckers. Motherfuckers who didn’t deserve it. Lay in a course for Corellia, I’m going to go use the fresher.” 

<< Can I come? >> Torian asked. 

Hrafnhar laughed. << Sure but I’m probably too fucked up for anything _exciting_. >>

“Ugh,” Mako rolled her eyes from up top. “I don’t even _speak_ Mandalorian and I know you’re being gross, Hrafnhar.” 

Hrafnhar stuck her tongue out childishly and then hobbled to the fresher. She pulled off her armor and her clothes and took her place under the steam. She smiled widely when Torian joined her. Per his wishes and her injured state, she kept her hands above his waist, but the kisses were nice and having someone else wash her hair was nice. 

They flopped over onto her mattress a little later, further kisses interrupted by Torian’s comm device. 

“If it’s Mako I really will claw her eyes out,” Hrafnhar lied, grumbling. 

“It’s Corridan,” Torian said. He turned the comm on and Hrafnhar was greeted with another Mandalorian, dark hair this time. 

<< I’ve got a mission, >> said Corridan, << thought you might want in on it. Clan Ordo’s been hired to kill a Senator who’s hiding out under major Jedi protection. It’ll be a serious engagement. He’s gone to ground in a heavily fortified area. Worth a lot of credits too. >> Corridan paused when he noticed Hrafnhar. << This the girl? >>

<< Beloved, meet Corridan Ordo, my brother. >>

<< Pleasure. >> Hrafnhar said, making sure the blankets were up high enough that Corridan wasn’t getting a free show. 

<< If you’re interested, brother, meet us at the Baliss estate on Alderaan. Corridan out. >>

Hrafnhar rolled up to sitting and kissed Torian’s shoulder. “Sounds important, _cyare_. A Jedi hunt’s serious business.”

“They’re my brothers. I need to be there.” 

Hrafnhar kissed his neck. “I know, _cyare_. I’ll miss you, but I get it. We’ll be on Corellia when you’re finished. I’ve got my own Jedi hunt.” 

“ _Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum_ ,” he said, cupping her cheeks so he could kiss her harder. 

“And what does that mean?” 

“Literally? I know you forever.” Torian gave her a light headbutt. “Means I love you.” 

He left and Hrafnhar flopped backwards on the mattress and let her limbs hurt. She’d be fine once the kolto did its job. A little sore and a little more scarred, but fine. Slowly she covered her face like she was nervous about someone seeing the wide grin that split her face. 

He loved her!

She loved him!

Love was a slick con but here she was, stuck in it. 

* * *

“Heard Torian leaving last night,” Gault said, apparently well through nursing his hangover. “You strike out, shortstop?” 

She shook her head. “Jedi hunt interrupted the game. I hope Torian stomps on his nuts before popping him in the face.”

Gault laughed a little at that. “I don’t know what you see in him,” he said with a shrug. “He’s too serious and his idea of the finer things in life is traipsing through the mud after some stinking animal.” Gault sighed. “But, I suppose I’m happy _for_ you despite that. So long as it doesn’t cut into our bottom line.” 

“It hasn’t yet,” Hrafnhar shrugged, rummaging through the fridge for some of the juice Mako had picked up. 

“That doesn’t mean it _won’t_ , but I see your point.”

Hrafnhar patted him on the back and headed upstairs. “Morning,” she said brightly to Mako. 

“Oh good, you can still move,” Mako said.

“It was only a couple dozen spec ops. Have more faith in me,” Hrafnhar teased. “How long til we hit Corellia?” 

“Couple of days. The shuttle’s missing.” 

“Yeah, Torian took it to fight some Jedi with his old buddies.” 

“At least this time we’re sure to get the shuttle back,” Mako said with a hint of disdain. “I know _you_ love Gault—”

“He brought the shuttle back.” Hrafnhar said, disregarding that he almost hadn’t brought the shuttle back. “He’s a lying thieving backstabber but he is _my_ lying thieving backstabber and that counts for something.” 

“You have the weirdest friends.” 

Hrafnhar shrugged in response. 

“Speaking of friends,” Mako looked down at the floor. “Feel like watching my back through another scary holocall? I survived the last one, but this… might just get me.” 

“I’ve got you,” Hrafnhar promised.

“Remember that datapad we got from Carteri a million years ago?” 

Hrafnhar nodded. 

“I cracked it,” Mako gave her a watery smile. “I got a holo frequency for Izak. Mister Project 32 himself. I can’t… do this without you.” 

Hrafnhar clapped her on the shoulder. “If they find a way to hurt you through the HoloNet I bet I can hurt them right back. If they’re Sith, we just hang up in a hurry.” 

Mako’s smiled warmed and she rolled her shoulders back, businesslike. “Perfect! Just sort of stand there and look imposing. Pretty much like you always do.” 

Hrafnhar assumed the position. Hands on her hips, blasters clearly visible. 

“What’s this?” said Izak as the call went through. 

“Okay,” said Mako. “Before we get started, let’s set something straight: My name is _Mako_. M-A-K-O. Got it? Call me ‘Coral’ and so help me I will find a way to punch you through the HoloNet.” 

“Mako?” Izak said thoughtfully. “Now that’s a name I’d never thought I’d hear again.” 

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” asked Hrafnhar.

“Believe me,” said Izak. “I would _love_ to talk to you, Mako. I’ve got plenty of questions myself. Unfortunately for both of us, I don’t have much time for conversation at the moment.” 

“Make time,” Hrafnhar said. “This is important.” 

“Normally, I’d agree with you on that. But my team has pinpointed Coral’s location. Finding her is my priority. Mako,” his eyes found hers. “A word of warning: this isn’t the life you want. Whatever happens, stay away from Coral.” 

“Why?” Mako asked. “What do you want with her? What did she _do_?” 

“She’s killed most of the people involved in Project 32,” answered Izak. “I can only assume she’ll try to kill you, too. She’s gotten almost everyone else.” 

“She set us up,” Hrafnhar said. “On Dromund Kaas, she knew those other girls were looking for blood and she sent you in her place.” 

Coral was one dead bitch when Hrafnhar found her. 

“That fuck mothering bitch!” Mako swore, the words getting twisted around. “I knew it was fishy and I—I just _walked_ right into it! I am such a fucking idiot.” 

Hrafnhar gave her shoulder a pat because while it wasn’t _untrue_ , it was _unfair_. 

“Mako,” said Izak. “I’ll contact you after my team’s taken Coral into custody. We have a lot to talk about. Izak out.” 

Mako looked down at her datapad as the holoterminal fell silent. “I’m intercepting all his outgoing transmissions. Looks like… yes, I have the coordinates he’s sending out.” 

“You’re thinking about intercepting him. Catching him and Coral at once.” 

“Yep,” Mako said. “The coordinates are downloading to the nav computer. Let’s go pay my sister a friendly visit.” 

“You realize, of course, that we’re supposed to be heading to Corellia,” Hrafnhar dropped into the captain’s seat. “ _But_ , the _Tyrant_ needed several days of repairs to be hyperspace worthy.” She plugged in the coordinates Mako had sent to the navcomputer, Nar Shaddaa. “And you’re particularly cute when you’re murderous.” 

Mako wrapped her arms around Hrafnhar’s shoulders. “Thank you!” 

“We all get murdered by a Sith Lord, it’s your fault.” 

* * *

“Back where it all began,” Hrafnhar said as they touched down. “For you, anyway, for me it began on Hoth.” 

Mako gave her a surprised look. “What happened to ‘I don’t talk about my past’.” 

“I’m still not handing out details like flatcakes, but yeah, I was on Hoth when I decided bounty hunting was the life for me.” 

Mako gave her a small smile that Hrafnhar had a hard time parsing but thought _might_ be Mako looking proud of her. She shoved Mako gently to the side and headed down the gangplank into Mezeti spaceport. 

Mako figured out where the SIS safehouse was and she and Hrafnhar took a taxi to Promenade. They broke into the ‘storefront’ by slicing the lock and Hrafnhar drew both blasters, carefully checking and clearing their way deeper into the safehouse. They found a turbolift at the back of the shop and took it up. 

They found Coral digging under a sophisticated terminal.

“Hey sis,” Mako said as Hrafnhar aimed both blasters at Coral. “Long time no see, huh?” 

“Mako?” Coral looked earnestly surprised. She tried to smile. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?” 

“Met some of our sisters,” Mako said dryly (Hrafnhar was proud). “It was real sweet. _Heartwarming_ you might say.”

“Oh, about that,” Coral tried to bashful. “I should have warned you…”

“Can it bitch, your ass is grass,” Hrafnhar snapped. 

“I didn’t set you up, I swear!” Coral pleaded. “Project 32 is trying to frame me, Mako. The others were in on it. Help me slice this computer. If I can erase my records, I can just disappear. Nobody else will get hurt. Please!” 

“Shove a cock in it,” Mako snapped. She looked at Hrafnhar. “Great, I sound like you when I’m angry. That’s wonderful.” She turned back to Coral. “You used me. You wanted Izak dead. You wanted the other girls dead. Quit pretending to be the victim.” 

“I, personally, vote we shoot her,” said Hrafnhar. “But this is your show, Bubblebutt.” 

“Maybe in a minute.” Mako said with a shrug. “Well, Coral, you have anything else you want to say before I watch Izak cart your sorry ass out of here?” 

Coral dropped the act and glowered at them. “So I set you up, so what? You don’t matter. Neither did the others. None of you are even real people.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Hrafnhar ordered. 

“I’m _real_ ,” Coral turned to plead with Hrafnhar. “You think I wanted to be part of a set? Would _you_ want that?” 

“Fuck you,” spat Mako but her resolve was starting to crack. 

“I’m not like the rest of you: I’m _unique_. You’re not even a person.” She raised her blaster and shot at Mako. 

Mako screamed and Hrafnhar pulled both triggers, shooting Coral in the knee and stomach. She stomped over and kicked the woman’s blaster away. 

“Tell me you’re still with me, Mako,” Hrafnhar said, feeling her throat tighten with worry. She looked at Coral. “She dies, you’re gonna _wish_ the fucking SIS—”

“I’m fine,” Mako straightened up and pulled a thin sheet of durasteel from under her shirt. Blood soaked through the fabric when she lowered it back down over her stomach. “I thought it might go down like this.” 

Hrafnhar kept her weapons glued to Coral but turned her head to grin. “You scared the _shit_ out of me.” 

“Sorry.” Mako pointed her weapon at Coral. 

“It doesn’t matter. Nothing you do matters,” grunted Coral through her bared teeth. “Even if I die here, you won’t be real. You’re just a cheap copy, _Mako_.” 

“She yammers a lot for someone who’s just been totally beaten, doesn’t she?” 

“So, like I was saying, I would just shoot her but it’s your decision.” Hrafnhar shrugged. “Mind, I would shoot her several times and most of it wouldn’t be lethal.” 

“You’re terrible,” Mako rolled her eyes. “SIS can have her. They’re probably almost—” she stopped when they heard footsteps. “That’s them.” 

“Mako?” Izak, in the flesh this time, stepped into the room and looked Mako over with surprise that quickly faded to acceptance. “How did you—No, that’s a stupid question. We’ll take Coral from here. I guess we should thank you.” He paused for a beat. “Are you alright?” 

Mako shrugged like the blaster hole in her side didn’t hurt. “I don’t know what you guys are going to do to her, but I have a hunch she deserves it.” She looked at Hrafnhar as Izak cuffed Coral. “That stuff she said about being a copy… what do you think that was supposed to mean?” 

The phrase _clone babies_ jumped for attention in Hrafnhar’s mind. She shrugged. “Does it matter? You’re the one and only Mako, doesn’t matter how many girls have or had your face. They don’t have the other pieces that make you you.” 

Mako smiled a little bit. “That was… sweet, Hrafnhar.”

“Yeah don’t tell anybody.” She pulled out some bandages and knelt down. “Now pretend you’re trying to get a boy’s attention and lift your shirt up.” 

“Gross,” Mako complained as she obeyed. 

Hrafnhar cleaned and wrapped the blaster hole. “Come on, let’s go home.” 

“Yeah,” Mako agreed, watching the SIS cart Coral off with Izak saying they’d talk ‘later’. “I wanna be as far from here as possible.” 

“Nar Shaddaa is just never nice to you, is it.” 

“That resort you and Gault swindled us into was nice,” Mako shrugged and followed Hrafnhar back to the ship.

* * *

Torian met her in the Corellian spaceport. Hrafnhar smiled to see him in one piece. 

“Welcome back,” she said with a smile, “Corridan make it out too?” 

Torian nodded. “Took a lightsaber strike, glanced off his big head. Didn’t care to find out firsthand—never let them get that close.” 

“Good. I feel like I’d go on a revenge bender if something happened to you and this one I’m on is already pretty fucking annoying. Tell me the story later?” 

“Count on it. Where are we going?” 

“I’m taking Gault with me to talk to General Krau,” she gestured to where Gault was behind her with her thumb.

<< Are you sure you can trust him? >> Torian asked seriously. 

<< Yes. >>

“Contrary to popular belief, switching languages does _in fact_ , let someone know you’re talking about them. Relax hot-head, I’ve been with Hrafnhar _almost_ as long as Mako and I’ve always brought her back in one piece.” 

Gault pushed past them and Hrafnhar leaned in to give Torian a kiss. “You two are impossible.”

“Don’t like him,” Torian said simply. << Come back alive. >>

She smiled at him and then hurried to catch up with Gault. 

“So, by my presence I’m guessing you want to keep the bloodshed to a minimum?” 

“He wants hostages, not corpses.” Hrafnhar shrugged. “I’ve got a better chance of pulling that off with you than with anybody else.” 

“Particularly as beautiful young Mako got herself shot the other day.” 

“You noticed that, huh?” 

“I’m old and wily.” Gault grinned at her. “Nothing escapes my notice.” 

It was probably true.

They stepped out of the spaceport and into the Corellian warzone, a perfectly average city reduced to cracked roads and mortar holes, filled with people shouting. Hrafnhar wrinkled her nose at a two-seater that looked like a bomb had gone off under it. 

Gault sighed. “Used to call this place home. Don’t see that happening again.” 

“The warzone doesn’t do it for you?” asked Hrafnhar. 

Gault smiled a little. “Just won’t be the same once the Imps finish draping their flags over everything.” 

“Imps and their flags,” she concurred. 

The fighting wasn’t bad around the spaceport yet. Hrafnhar followed the instructions Tormen had sent to find General Krau. 

The General, and the men with him, gave Hrafnhar a decidedly icy welcome. Hrafnhar cocked an eyebrow and waited. 

The General sighed. “Let’s get on with this, bounty hunter. I’ve troops to deploy. Darth Tormen demands that I dispatch you to capture Chairman Harlon Fane of the Corellian Corporate Council.” 

“Sounds great,” Hrafnhar said with as bright a smile as she could muster. “Just point me in the right direction.” 

“Fane and the other representatives have locked themselves up in their council tower in defiance of Imperial rule. His _exact_ location isn’t known, but it is likely that he and the other senior representatives are holed up in the tower’s upper executive offices.” 

“If I can get dropped on the roof it’d save everyone some time.” 

“The anti-aircraft coverage over Incorporation Island would atomize you immediately. Ground assault is the only option.” 

Hrafnhar looked at Gault. “ _Incorporation Island_?” 

“What it says on the tin.” 

“Fuck _,”_ she said conversationally. 

“A _hem_ ,” said the General. “Resistance will be heavy, but the council tower has several structural weakness we can exploit. The only thing stopping you from accessing the tower through the main lobby is sheer manpower.” 

“Well that’ll be fun.” 

“I was wrong,” said Gault. “You _should_ have brought Torian. Too late to tap out?” 

“It’ll be fine,” promised Hrafnhar. 

“The executive suites have a private lift that will bypass most of the intervening levels,” said the General. “It’ll require an access key used by senior staff. _Also_ , unless you’d like to be trapped inside a lift shaft, you’ll need to attack the tower’s security center and disable their override controls.” 

“Make sure nobody can fuck with it and then take the elevator, got it. Any other tidbits?” 

“Once those objectives have been completed, you should have a straight shot to the upper levels. And remember, you’re to deliver Chairman Fane _alive_ and _intact_. Dismissed.” 

Gault and Hrafnhar returned to the street and headed for the tower.

Hrafnhar found the Imperial supplymaster and purchased a bunch of grenades, handing about half of them to Gault. 

Gault gave her a skeptical look.

“Their advantage is manpower, properly applied, grenades nullify that advantage.” She grinned. “Also they’re fun.” 

“Remind me to reacquaint you with what _normal_ people consider ‘fun’, darling,” Gault replied. “Also, grenades can’t beat a good con.” 

“ _That’s_ true, but I don’t see us conning our way into the building.” 

Gault considered. “Probably not but I’ll let you know if I think of anything.” 

* * *

In the end, all the plans Gault could come up with to get a chiss into the building required the building to not be at war with the Imperials, so they went with the grenades. The grenades provided the edge Hrafnhar and Gault needed to make the most of their shooting and they reached the top floors of the tower to find the Chairman. 

The Chairman was in his office with his bodyguards. The bodyguards crowded around Gault and Hrafnhar as they entered the room but Fane raised his hands. “Wait. Wait.” 

“Sir,” said one of the bodyguards. “They’re dangerous.”

“They’re also _not_ Imperial soldiers.” 

Gault leaned in close to Hrafnhar and whispered, “I smell a pitch coming on.” 

“This is clearly a question of _money_ , not _loyalty_. Am I right?” 

Hrafnhar lowered her blaster so it was pointing at the Chairman’s knee. “It’s really _not_ that simple.” Even if she didn’t have her rep to think about, she was a mandalorian now and even if she wasn’t a mandalorian, Tormen would killed Mako, Torian and Gault if he thought it would _motivate_ her. 

“Look, I’m a powerful man. I can open a lot of doors. Let’s work something out,” said Chairman Fane. “The private sector _always_ needs good talent, and we’ll pay you what you’re worth. Why collect one paltry bounty when I can pay you a fortune in regular wages?” 

Hrafnhar frowned at him. “Never liked the way my ass looks in a security uniform and I’m just so _picky_ about my appearance.” 

“No head for numbers?” teased Chairman Fane.

“Only if it’s a bodycount,” Gault said helpfully. 

Fane pushed some buttons and summoned a small forcefield around his desk. “Show them the door.” 

“Duck,” Hrafnhar said. 

Gault dove for cover while she took to the air and rained missiles on the bodyguards. When she landed she popped the one that had survived in the head as Gault returned from cover. 

She smiled at Fane. 

“We can work this out,” he said, holding his hands up to pacify her. “The Empire can _have_ Corellia. I’ll—I’ll slip offworld, retire somewhere in the Colonies.” 

“Nope.” Hrafnhar said cheerily. “You’ve got a date with a Dark Lord. It’ll be fine, he seems like he’s respect the ‘no tongue’ rule.” 

“No tongue rule?” asked Gault. “That’s a new one.” 

“No tongue on the first date.” Hrafnhar answered. “I thought it was a pretty standard—that’s not important.” 

“Like you’ve ever adhered to the ‘no tongue’ rule,” Gault said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Never been on a date so it’s never come up.” Hrafnhar shrugged. She looked back at the very confused chairman. “The simple version is that you’re coming with me.”

“So this is how it ends?” said the Chairman mournfully. “Paraded before the galaxy like a broken animal… I can’t stop you. I’ll go quietly.” He dropped the forcefield and held still while Hrafnhar sprayed him down with the S86k. 

Gault surveyed the body. “Can I just say that I’m delighted you never used that thing on me.” 

“Well yeah.” Hrafnhar shrugged. “You were wanted dead.” 

They took the carbonited body back to General Krau, only to find Darth Tormen with him. Hrafnhar resisted the urge to step in front of Gault, knowing that the action would alert Tormen to the weak spot that Gault represented.

“You’ve obtained Chairman Fane,” said Tormen. “Good. We proceed on schedule. General,” —he turned to the General— “See to the bounty hunter’s reward.” 

“Yes, my lord.” 

“Appreciate it,” Hrafnhar said. 

“Our next objective,” said Tormen, is to bring Corellia’s beasts to heel. _You_ ,” he pointed at Hrafnhar, “will be the one to break them.” 

“Who and where?” asked Hrafnhar. 

“The Corellians cohabit with a number of species. The most numerous and organized are the Selonians. The Republic needs to see the Selonians accede to the Empire. A representative must be acquired.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. “Who and where?” she repeated. 

Tormen narrowed his eyes at her briefly. “One particularly tenacious animal leads packs of raiders to undermine our front lines. It will make as good an example as any.” 

Hrafnhar nodded again. He _still_ hadn’t answered her fucking question, but she wasn’t about to risk pissing him off, not with Gault standing right there.

“General Krau will brief you on the battle plan. When you have the creature, bring it to me in Axial Park.”

“‘Kay.”

Tormen scowled at her, red eyes roaming over her face like he was deciding how far she could be pushed. He turned and left.

“Trying to locate the selonian raiders in the guts of Coronet City would be almost futile,” said General Krau. “Instead, you’ll target an invaluable Selonian resource, and force these raiders to defend it.” 

“It’d have to be something big.” 

“Selonians rely on a small breeding caste to reproduce. With their future at stake, the selonians will have no choice but to act. Raid the selonian warrens under labor valley, take your hostages and hold them at these coordinates.”

“Something special about the location?” 

“It’s a dead end. They’ll believe they have you cornered right up to the moment you cut off their only route of escape.” He produced a handful of shock collars, the newer models which were thinner and easier to carry. “These shock collars will keep the alien filth in line while you lead them to the ambush coordinates. When your objective is complete report directly to Darth Tormen in Axial Park. Just follow the sound of destruction.” 

Hrafnhar cocked an eyebrow. “That’s cute, but I’ll need real coordinates.”

Krau sent them out and Hrafnhar looked up at Gault. “Want to swap out with Torian?” 

Gault leveled her with a look. “Yes, but do you think you want Torian meeting Darth Spooky Eyes? Speaking of, can we _not_ irritate him? I heard about what happened to Mako.” 

Hrafnhar frowned. “Since when do you care about whether or not I want Torian introduced to a Darth?” 

“I don’t,” said Gault. “But you do. Come on, Princess, let’s get this over with.”

* * *

Hrafnhar actually felt a little bit bad about rounding up the selonian mothers. She was mostly glad Mako didn’t have to see it. Despite not being a _great_ person (and a worse one before Mako had stuck her nose in) Hrafnhar had always tried to come at targets straight on, rather than targeting loved ones. 

She felt _dirty_ , leading the selonian mothers to the ambush point. 

<< Ravager, >> said the selonian she was _actually_ there for. << You have much to answer for! Yield and meet a quick death. >>

“I have something you value,” Hrafnhar said, hating it. “So sit down and shut the fuck up.” She marched the mothers out. 

The selonian she was there for growled. << There will be no surrender, only retribution. >>

“Think you’re going to have to get tough with them, champ,” Gault said. 

<< Return our sisters and mothers. Now! Before my warriors use your body to show your Sith that they know nothing of fear. >>

“Your females have served their purpose,” Hrafnhar pointed her blaster at him. “You’re here.” 

<< Kill her slowly. >>

Hrafnhar shot the first selonian who moved in the chest. Gault grabbed the largest of the mothers and pulled her in front of him as a make-shift shield. She was thin and weaselly and didn’t provide a _lot_ of protection, but maybe she provided enough. Hrafnhar shot into the selonian resistance and then popped off a missile. She caught a blaster bolt in the arm, but fired another missile and then closed with the only one she needed alive. He whipped her with his blaster and Hrafnhar shot him in the leg. “Keep fighting and I will _butcher_ your females,” Hrafnhar growled. “Everyone else gets to live if you shut up and come quietly.” 

<< My death is nothing. My people will die fighting. We will not become slaves of you Empire. >>

“It’s not my Empire and it’s not _your_ life I’m fucking bartering for,” said Hrafnhar. 

<< I choose death before servitude. >>

Hrafnhar nodded. “I get that, I really do.” She sprayed him down with the S86k and turned to the few remaining selonians. “Take your women and go.” 

She didn’t say anything else until they were out of the tunnels and on their way to the tram. “So what can you tell me about Axial Park?” 

“Corellians like to think they’d _in tune_ with nature,” Gault said. “Axial park has trees and grass and expensive little museums. It’s a great place for a small con or a date. Or it was, before the Empire started bombing the planet.” 

“We haven’t even seen it yet.” 

“The Empire’s even less delicate than you, my flower.” Gault poked her nose and she snorted a laugh. 

On the rocket tram she called the ship. “How’re thing going?” she asked Mako. 

“Things are fine? Reasonably quiet. I think Torian might mutiny.” 

Hrafnhar shook her head and laughed. “I’m not going to stop him from volunteering for some fighting if he thinks the Empire can hold the spaceport.” 

“I’ll tell him.” 

“Thanks Mako.” 

“You almost done?” 

“Fuck but I hope so. Catch you later kiddo.” She tucked the comm back into her pocket. 

Axial Park had, sure enough, been wrecked by bombardment. Gault looked a little annoyed, but not particularly surprised. They met Tormen in one of the museums, now converted into a bunker. Gault gave a depressed sigh. 

“So much to steal before this?” 

“That and it’s depressing seeing the finer things in life crushed under Sith boots,” Gault said. 

They found Darth Tormen and brought the carbonited selonian up to him. “Brought you something,” she thumped the carbonite once. 

“Impressive, for an animal.” 

Hrafnhar chose to believe he was talking about the selonian and not her. 

“The trap is nearly set,” Tormen continued. “All that remains is to capture the last figurehead of Corellia’s old regime: Corellia’s civil police force commissioner. Somehow, Commissioner Carter survived the initial purge of dissenters before Prime Minister Falcone delivered Corellia to us.” 

“He gone underground or something? Spooked into hiding?”

“ _Hardly_ ,” said Tormen, a touch of annoyance in his tone. “Since the purge, Commissioner Carter has rallied the rebellion. The public sees him as the last legitimate voice of the Corellian people. Carter and his CorSec officers are the backbone of the civilian resistance.” 

“I’m done roping innocent people into this,” Hrafnhar said. “There’s too much room for shit to go wrong.”

“It will not be an issue,” said Tormen. “CorSec’s old headquarters is now a formidable fortress. Our forces are laying siege to it as we speak. Their standing orders are to block off any escape. That is all.” 

“Got it.” Hrafnhar said, not looking forward to fighting security officers on their terms on their turf but at least it was something she _could_ do. 

Gault sighed. 

“Contact me when Commissioner Carter is in custody. My troops will cover your exit.” 

Hrafnhar turned and left, Gault following after her. 

“You know where CorSec’s located?” she asked. 

“It was one of those places I _avoided_ when I lived here,” Gault said. “It’s this way.” 

As they passed through the building, Hrafnhar listened to the other Mandalorians celebrate. It would be something entirely different to be here one her own terms. With her… she sort of _was_ with her clan. Gault and Mako and Torian and even Blizz. They had her back as surely as she had theirs, didn’t they? 

Gault might grumble about it, but she trusted him. 

Mandalorians needed war to know who they were. Hrafnhar wouldn’t have minded a war on her own terms. Without Tormen breathing down her neck threatening the lives of her crew. Without this banthashit with Jun Seros. 

Gault touched her shoulder. “You alright there, Champ?” 

“Fine.” She shook her head. “Just eager to be done with this so I can get to the fun parts of fighting.” 

“You really _are_ a mandalorian,” he said with a little bit of disdain. “Ah well, at least you know the value of money.” 

“They didn’t change me, they just gave me a box I fit more comfortably is. Lead the way to CorSec headquarters.” 

“Bad news is right this way.” 

* * *

Grenades, missiles and a disregard for the lives of security officers got Hrafnhar and Gault inside and through the building. 

“You ever get arrested here?” Hrafnhar asked, her back pressed to a wall as she peered around the corner.

“What, do I look like an amatuer?”

“Surely you were one once.” 

“I wasn’t that young when I lived here.” Gault tossed a termal down the hall and pressed his back to the wall as it exploded. They continued down the corridor until it opened into a wide room with statues at the back. 

“That’s him,” Gault said, pointing at the man standing in front of the statues. “And this is prime ambush territory.” 

“Thanks, dear.” 

She pointed her blaster at Commissioner Carter and shouted as she and Gault entered the room. “I’m going to insist you surrender, you’re going to make a speech, I’m going to shoot you in the knee and try again.” She lowered her blaster to his knee. “Any steps you wanna skip?” 

“Go on and kill me. You’ll have a million citiz—”

A blaster round bounced off his personal shield.

“That goon Falcone already tried to have the Empire knock me off; didn’t would out so well for them. You got any idea how many lowlifes have tried retiring the only _honest_ chief of police this city’s had in _decades_?” 

Another round bounced off his personal shield. 

“You wanna try your luck, baby doll? Be my guest, but first I’ve got something to ask you first.” 

“I’ve got a minute.” 

“The people you’re working for, they aren’t spice runners or thugs looking for a quick fortune. They’re despots. Do this and you’ll force billions of people to bow before the Sith. Is the Empire paying you enough to clear your conscience of that?” 

“ _Conscience_ ,” Gault said with a roll of his eyes. 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Hrafnhar sighed. She cocked back and pistol whipped the chief of police. “It’s not about the money.” 

Carter rolled backwards bleeding from the temple. “Move! Move now!” 

“Ah!” Gault groaned. “What did I tell you? _Duck!_ ” 

They jumped out of the way as four armed humans propelled down the walls. Hrafnhar got one in the back and then had to dart back behind a decorative shrubbery. She looked around for Gault and found him behind one of the statues. He chucked a grenade and she used the explosion as cover to duck out and shoot Carter in the back, hitting his shield device. She leapt out and tackled him, rolling them both in the middle of the room where she planted her weight on his chest and started hitting him. She only stopped hitting him when Gault touched her shoulder. 

“I think he’s going to swallow his teeth if you keep that up.” 

She froze Carter with the s86k and accepted Gault’s hand to standing. She pulled out her comm and called Tormen. “Carter’s a popsicle.” 

“Good,” said Tormen. “Our forces have control of the Corellian Legislature. Deliver Commissioner Carter to the Grand Assembly. Your reward will be waiting.” 

She tucked her comm back into her pocket and looked at Gault. “Do you think Sith sound fucking ominous about that on _purpose_? Is it part of their banthashit aesthetic?” 

Gault smiled a little, a bruise starting to stand out on his right cheekbone. “Probably. We’d better the this hunk of ice to him.” 

Gault lead her back to the rocket tram and from there to the Grand Assembly. Tormen rubbed his hands together excitedly when he saw the lump of carbonite. He turned to one of his men. “Prepare the commissioner for the surrender.” 

“My Lord!” the trooper hurried off with the carbonite. 

“Your success is noted,” Tormen said, looking at Hrafnhar. 

“I’m here to help,” Hrafnhar said dryly. 

“Enjoy the fruits of your labor,” he gestured behind him to where the chairman and the selonian were bound and on their knees. “Watch these rebels sign our enemies death warrant.” 

“Sure,” Hrafnhar shrugged. “Why not.”

It was a long and rather boring ceremony, Hrafnhar kept expecting someone to throw a wrench in it. But no, Corellia seceded from the Republic and joined the Empire and Hrafnhar tried to be pleased about knowing that this would pull Jun Seros out of hiding. 

But it didn’t feel like a _victory_. 

She felt like a toady. The worst feeling. 

She stood around with Tormen and Gault as the Prime Minister came over to rub his hands evilly and demonstrate the victory Tormen had won. 

Hrafnhar decided it was kind of nice watching a man who’d sold out his people for a title get his just desserts. Tormen snapped his neck with a thought and then turned to Hrafnhar. 

She looked at the body, did _not_ look at Gault, and then looked back at Tormen asked, “are we going to have a problem?” 

“You upheld your end of the bargain,” Tormen said simply. “Now, we wait.” 

He left and Hrafnhar looked at Gault. She exhaled, fear flickering in the pit of her stomach. “You ever gone up against a Jedi before?” 

Gault shook his head. “I avoid those confrontations like long hours of backbreaking work.” 

“That’s what I thought. Head back to the ship and tell Torian to meet me here. He and I have the best chance of actually taking out a Jedi. I’ll call ahead and let him know you’re coming.” 

“You sure about this?”

“No?” she sighed. “But I’m doing it anyway.” 

Gault left, the way he touched her shoulder lingering, and Hrafnhar called Torian. He was out of breath when he answered his comm, blonde hair sticking to his forehead. “What do you need?” 

“I need you to come help me murder a Jedi,” she said. “Figured it’s a hunt you’d enjoy.” 

“Send me the coordinates. I’ll be right there.” 

She forwarded the coordinates to the Grand Assembly. “I…” she swallowed and switched to Mando’a. << I trust Tormen about as far as I can run without kneecaps. I don’t trust he won’t use you as leverage if he knows that I… that we’re… >> Hrafnhar frowned. << You know. >>

Torian smiled at her. << Love you too. I’ll keep it quiet. >>

She hung up and waited. 

* * *

Torian arrived and clapped her on the shoulder. << How are you holding up, beloved? >>

<< Thought we were keeping our relationship quiet, >> Hrafnhar replied. 

<< Think he speaks Mando’a? >> Torian challenged. 

Hrafnhar huffed a laugh. << God you’re hot when you’re clever. One of these days I’m going to take you apart and put you together again. >>

Torian laughed. << Should be fun. >>

A soldier got her attention. “Darth Tormen desires your presence immediately. This way, please.”

They were lead to Darth Tormen, who acknowledged Torian with a glance and then looked back to Hrafnhar. “A large Republic fleet has entered the system. It includes the _Founder_ , Supreme Chancellor Janarus’s personal flagship. These reinforcements are attempting to consolidate at the Green Gardens. You know who leads them.” 

“Good. I’m tired of waiting,” Hrafnhar said. “I’m ready to fucking finish this.” 

“Jun Seros seeks to urge Coronet City’s Green Jedi out of their enclave and press the attack,” said Tormen. “When there forces are amassed, the Republic will attempt one last offensive. You have until then to reap your vengeance.” 

“What? Now there’s a time crunch?”

“If Seros leads his attack, he will die. I will not surrender ground for your vendetta,” Tormen said flatly, and Hrafnhar had to agree that that was fair. “Attacking Jun Seros within his headquarters is the only way to be sure crucial data is in his possession. Dispose of Seros. Quietly. No one must know of his demise. Bring his effects to me.” Tormen held up a hand. “Dismissed.” 

Hrafnhar turned and left, Torian on her heels. 

“Green Jedi?” he asked. 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “They’re a splinter organization I think. Apparently they just serve Corellia.” 

Torian shrugs. “So I’ll keep ‘em at a distance.” 

“I… have a better plan, Cyare.” Hrafnhar said. “When we get close, cuff me, hands in front, and pretend you’re a bounty hunter taking me to Jun Seros. Once we’re inside, we can hit the Jedi one at a time until we find that hutt-licking, puppeteering son of a mynock.” 

Torian nodded. When they drew close to the Green Jedi enclave, he took the electro cuffs off of Hrafnhar’s belt and cuffed her hands in front of her. Hrafnhar leaned in a stole a kiss. “Couldn’t resist,” she muttered. 

Torian smiled and shook his head with a silent laugh. He took her blasters, holster and all, and put them on, but he left her the s86k and her wrist missile launcher before marching her to the enclave, his pistol pressed to her back. 

“Got a bounty,” he said. “Wanted to take it to Jun Seros myself.” 

They waited, Jedi were good at sensing deception but neither of them had really _lied_. 

One Jedi nodded. “I’d like to do this scum myself, but Master Seros deserves the honor, someone will see you paid and take her from you inside.” 

<< We should get paid first. >> Hrafnhar said. 

Torian’s mouth twitched with a smile. They marched in, past the bulk of the defenses, and eventually a Jedi Master tried to take Hrafnhar from Torian. 

“Master Seros will deal with you shortly,” said the Jedi. There was whisper of a blaster shot and Hrafnhar stepped to the side as the Jedi fell over dead. 

“Uncuff me,” Hrafnhar held her hands out. “We need to hurry.” 

They crept as quickly and as quietly as they could through the enclave, heart beats thundering, but they had to admit that it was all _exciting_. Hrafnhar felt herself start to grin as they plunged deeper into the enclave, looking for Master Seros. 

They found him in amidst other Jedi Masters. Hrafnhar exhaled her fear in a deep breath. She wanted to reach for Torian’s hand, but both of hers were on her weapons and she couldn’t afford to put them down. 

He knew that she loved him. 

For the first time in a long time, maybe since her mother’s bounty hunters had first pinned her down, Hrafnhar wondered if she was going to die. If she _was_ , at least she’d had an amazing fucking run of it. A life dedicated to what she loved doing. A life filled with people she’d come to care for. 

She frowned. 

She wasn’t going to die because of a bunch of mystics sitting around debating whether or not happiness was bad for you. Fuck that. 

“Hey Jun!” Hrafnhar shouted, announcing her presence to all the the masters. “I got something for you.” She held up both blasters. “Brand new anal beads, to replace that stick you’ve jammed up there.” 

“An intruder!” One woman shouted. 

“Yeah,” Hrafnhar shouted back. “I think they know.” 

“Go,” said Seros to the Masters. “Do your part to liberate Corellia. This is a private matter.” 

“Well it's a matter that’s bound to involve your privates, as I will be shooting them off. Not that Jedi ever _use_ them for anything productive.” She made her way down the stairs, Torian following at short distance.

“More childish taunts?” asked Jun Seros. “Not what I’d have expected from a killer of your caliber.” 

“Yeah,” she pointed her blaster at him. “I’m full of fucking surprises.” 

The other Jedi left and Jun Seros fixed Hrafnhar with a gaze. “You’re persistent. Stubborn. I suppose that’s why you excel at what you do—”

“Oh stop,” Hrafnhar said. “You’re flattering me.” 

“What won’t a Mandalorian put aside for pride?”

Her thoughts leapt to Torian. To Mako. To Gault. She forced them back on to the Jedi master for fear of the wrinkly old bastard reading her mind. 

“This is a matter of honor,” Hrafnhar said, and meant it. He’d dragged her name through the dirt. Put the people she loved at risk. “I am defined by my actions, limpdick, just like you.” 

“Your actions? What you do is ruin lives for profit. Nothing I did altered that truth. You chose to murder Kellian Jarros, just like you chose to kill everyone sent to bring you to justice. You could have surrendered any time.” Seros spoke evenly and it was starting to get under Hrafnhar’s skin. “You _chose_ to become a murderer and a terrorist. I only turned all that senseless destruction toward a righteous purpose.” 

Hrafnhar’s nostrils flared with indignation. “You _chose_ to throw people at me knowing they would die, fucko. You chose to build me up as strawman villain. And now you’re gonna pay for it.” 

“If using you to expose the Sith’s true face has dirtied my hands, so be it. It’s time to answer for your—” 

Hrafnhar fired and Seros deflected it. She jumped back as he lunged for her, mind working at a million miles a second. Torian kept back firing and forcing the Master to defend but it wasn’t enough. 

She kicked a bench into the way and rolled to her left when Seros struck, almost killing her as his lightsaber missed her by an inch. 

He would do _anything_ to kill her. 

She was wearing a piece of beskar. Her breastplate. The gift Torian had given her after Vause had almost disemboweled her. 

Hrafhar left her side open and, sure enough, Seros took the bait, swinging to cut her in half. The lightsaber met beskar and slowed, Hrafnhar grabbed Seros’s hand on the hilt of his lightsaber and held it in place long enough for Torian to line up the shot. Seros went slack as the blaster bolt went through the back of his head and he crumbled. Hrafnhar exhaled and checked the break in her armor where the lightsaber had almost gone through. 

She looked at Torian who jogged over and crushed her in his arms, kissing her forehead. << I thought you were done for. >>

Hrafnhar clutched him back. << I knew I could count on you. >> She kissed him once and then pulled away to grab Seros’s effects. 

When she looked back, Torian was beet red. 

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “What?”

<< Tonight, >> he said in Mando’a. << Will you be with me tonight? >>

Hrafnhar blinked at him. “Yeah, that was the plaaa-OH!” Her skin warmed two degrees in an instant. “I… Yes. _Fuck yes_.” 

Torian laughed, still blushing and, holding Jun Seros’s datapad and commlink, Hrafnhar fell back into his arms to kiss him deeply. 

She did _not_ heave a heavy sigh and mutter _fucking finally_ , but admittedly part of that was that she didn’t want to cheapen the moment. It was a big moment, and her instinct was to be crass and ruin it, but for Torian she could behave herself a little bit. 

They used the long walk back to the Grand Assembly to get themselves under control with the hope that Darth Tormen wouldn’t notice anything. 

There were Jedi in the Grand Assembly. 

Hrafnhar and Torian ducked behind a wall when they saw the lightsabers and exchanged a nod. They peeked from cover and fired, catching the Jedi by surprise only bought them a chance. 

The rocket bought them passage. 

They found Tormen in battle with a pair of Jedi and covered him with blaster fire from the balcony. When he’d dispatched both of his assailants, Hrafnhar and Torian made their way down the steps. 

“I did not see Seros,” Tormen said, addressing Hrafnhar. “You were successful?”

She handed over Seros’s effects. “Yep.” 

“Good. Only Jedi would call something this fragile ‘Battlemaster’.” 

“Battle what now?” Hrafnhar asked. “I thought he was just the Supreme Chancellor’s secret bestie.” 

“Before our return, Jun Seros taught all Jedi the art of conflict,” explained Darth Tormen. “His death is a crippling blow to the Jedi order. And without Jun Seros at his side, the Supreme Chancellor is exposed. Victory is close.” 

However much she _was_ being paid for Seros, Hrafnhar felt it should be more. She hadn’t known he was actually _important_. She frowned at Tormen. “So, is it everything you were hoping for?” 

“One the encryption is broken, we will know this data’s true value.”

“Great. I’ll go get a nap then.” 

“I will have the Supreme Chancellor’s head,” he said warningly. “My subordinates will transmit the relevant date to your vessel when it is prepared.” 

“Awesome. I’ll head home and take my nap there.” 

* * *

Hrafnhar strolled aboard the _Varactyl’s Nipples_ to find Gault and Mako try to play sabaac around Blizz. The trio looked up as the airlock opened and Mako smiled. “You look like you’ve been through the ringer.” 

“Team Goodlooking: 1, Obnoxious Jedi Twat: 0.” Hrafnhar said, holding up her hand with her thumb and index finger touching. She leaned heavily against the wall. “We’ve got to sit tight for a bit. I’m going to go take a nap.” 

Torian’s fingers found hers. << Sure you want a nap? >>

<< I can nap later, >> she said through her smile. 

Gault rolled his eyes. “I don’t speak mando’a but you two aren’t subtle.” He sighed and shook his head. “Just try to keep it down, some of us are relaxing.” 

Hrafnhar grinned at him. “No promises.” 

In the safety of her room, she and Torian fell into bed like it was the first time. Which it was in some ways. Awkward hesitance and fumbling fingers. Sex was something Hrafnhar had long stopped thinking about. It felt good, it was something that had been taboo. 

Sex with Torian was something else entirely. It was _fun_ but it also felt like a big deal. 

“You really are beautiful,” Torian said after they’d finished, cupping her cheek and letting his hand slide down her neck. “I could get used to this.” 

“So could I,” Hrafnhar leaned in to kiss him. “I don’t… you may had noticed but I’m not… great… at feelings.”

Torian laughed a little. “I noticed.” 

“Well the point is that I’m here. I’m… shit saying I’m yours feels like a fucking cliche.” She groaned and pressed her forehead to the join of his neck and shoulder. “You know what I mean.” 

“I love you too.”


	17. Family Portraits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar makes a decision about The Supreme Chancellor and gets hitched.

“Our people have a saying,” Torian said the day after they left Corellia. 

Hrafnhar, who had been considering beating Mako to death with the empty milk carton, listened. 

“ _Aliit ori’shya tal’din_ , you know it?” He asked.

Hrafnhar, holding the milk carton, frowned. “Family is more than blood.” She sighed. “So I _shouldn’t_ beat Mako to death with the carton.”

“No, you shouldn’t.” Torian touched her hand. “I’m glad you came to Taris.” 

“I’m glad you have my back.” Hrafnhar knocked her head into his lightly before heading upstairs still holding the milk carton.

“Mako am I killing you, Gault, or Blizz?” she called. 

She found Mako sitting in the cockpit looking thoughtful. 

“Gault drank the last of the milk,” Mako said. 

Hrafnhar sighed. “Of course he did. You usually pick up an extra carton if you notice we’re low.” She slumped into her seat. “So, you’re looking thoughtful.” 

Mako smiled a little. “I was just thinking. You know what? You’re okay.”

“All this time and you’re just—eh I don’t have a leg to stand on. You’re okay too, Mako.” 

“When Braden first talked about you, I don’t know what I expected—”

“5’9 and an awesome rack?” Hrafnhar said helpfully. 

Mako laughed. “Well there was that. Whatever it was I expected, you’re better. What I want to say is: you’re awesome and if you were lost in the same sector, I would _definitely_ give you directions.” 

Hrafnhar smiled at that, genuinely smiled. “If we were lost in the same sector, Mako. I would definitely give you a ride.” 

“Wait a rideor a _ride_ because with you it could be either,” Mako said, going from touched to skeptical in nothing flat. 

Hrafnhar waggled her eyebrows. 

“Gross,” Mako said laughing. She stopped and touched her earpiece. “You’ve got a call coming in. Probably Tormen about the Supreme Chancellor.” 

“Goody,” Hrafnhar sighed, standing up to go receive the information. 

Sure enough, it was Tormen on the other end of the holo. “The Jedi are broken; the Republic forces are in disarray. Now is the time to strike.” 

Hrafnhar nodded to move things along and kept her expression carefully blank. 

“You will depart Corellia. Make for the _Founder_ , the Supreme Chancellor’s flagship. Immediately. The _Founder_ ’s landing codes will give the Republic fleet little reason to fire upon you.”

“I do not believe this is going to be as simple as waltz in—waltz out,” Hrafnhar said. 

“The Republic should expect deception. We must make things convincing,” said Tormen. “Captain Horn has prepared an SOS signal using the Republic’s ciphers. When you leave the spaceport, you will be pursued by our ships. The Republic will allow you to board, or they risk allowing one of their own to die. We will give them no time for doubt.” 

“Well,” Hrafnhar let her shoulders drop. “I don’t have a better idea.” 

“Do not hesitate to dispatch your pursuers if they become troublesome. You will reach the _Founder_ by any means necessary. One on board, your first priority will be to destroy all crafts in the adjacent handers to prevent the Supreme Chancellor from escaping.” 

“Easy enough.” 

“With no means of escape, only the Supreme Guard will stand between you and your prey.” 

“If they aren’t Jedi, I’m not worried.” 

“I will await you on the _Tyrant_. The Supreme Chancellor’s fate is sealed.” The holocall ended. 

Hrafnhar hit the intercom button and summoned everyone together. “Gault, I want you on the holo talking them into letting us board in case there are any fuck ups. Mako, I want you to fly us in. Blizz, I want you to change our ident real quick so they don’t know we’re us. Give Gault something to work with. Torian, you’re boarding with me. We find the Supreme Chancellor, we get out as soon as possible.” 

Everyone nodded, the moment tense. 

Hrafnhar cleared her throat, feeling like it was one of those moments where she was supposed to be inspirational. 

“I should have actually sawed off Jun Seros’s dick,” she said with a sigh. “Then I could have given the Chancellor a taste of something familiar first.” 

Gault sputtered a laugh.

“Ew.” Mako wrinkled her nose. “Let me fly us in you reprobate.” 

Hrafnhar headed down stairs and pulled on her gear, minus the functionally destroyed breastplate. She frowned. Going into battle without her armor used to feel normal. Comfortable even. Now it felt like something was wrong. She shook her feeling aside. 

“You’ll need new gear,” said Torian.

“We’re rolling in credits,” Hrafnhar said. “After this we can _get_ new gear.” She gave him a fierce smile. “Also a vacation.” 

Torian raised an eyebrow. 

“There are some nice resorts slash hunting lodges on Dromund Kaas, figure we’ll rent one out and you can hunt while Gault, Mako and Blizz take a load off and I jump between the two of you like the galaxy’s sexiest ping-pong ball.” She threw her arms around Torian’s neck. “Because if we put it to a vote, you’ll lose.” 

Torian folded his arms around her waist. “Fair enough.” 

“We’re coming in,” Mako said over the intercom. “Get ready.” 

Hrafnhar grabbed the rest of her gear and headed to the airlock, she listened to Gault smooth things over, claiming to be a Republic smuggler forced to steal this ugly ass ship, and waited for the ship to land in the docking hangar. Once they docked, Hrafnhar and Torian left the ship, hitting the limited hangar security like a hammer. Hrafnhar set explosives next to every other ship in the hangar and blew them all straight to hell. 

She smiled at the _Varactyl’s Nipples_ and thumped the hull fondly before charging for the elevator and heading to the passenger deck to sabotage all but one of the escape pods. Security had been alerted, but if she kept moving she was harder to catch. She produced her comm. “Mako.” 

“Yeah?” 

“How’re you guys holding up?” 

“The explosion rocked us pretty hard but we haven’t had any visitors.” 

“Keep me updated. Smooches.” Hrafnhar tucked her comm away and set to sabotaging the escape pods. That finished, Hrafnhar hunted down the Supreme Chancellor himself, fighting her way through his small “supreme guard” to reach his office. 

The Supreme Chancellor looked up when the door opened and hung his head, muttering something sadly to himself as she approached. “There’s something I want to tell you… before you do what you came to do.” 

Hrafnhar kept her gun on him. “I’m listening.” 

“I’d ask you to sit, but I prefer not to kid myself.” He sat down and folded his hands on his desk where she could see them. “I reviewed the reports surrounding the operation to apprehend you. It’s… atrocious. A monumental abuse of power. I don’t condone what you were doing, but I understand it. It was just your job. Jun made it personal.” 

“He’s dead now. As is appropriate for people who fuck me over that hard.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to speak with you about. I’ve already declassified the real details of yours and Jun’s actions to the public. The fallout will be tremendous. No matter how our meeting concludes, I’ll be removed from office.” 

Hrafnhar blinked, surprised that he’d done so. Most of the politicians she’d had the displeasure of dealing with (and this included Sith and most high ranking Imperial military officers) cared more about their precious reputation than anything else. “That took guts. Most guys with power would rather keep it than do just about anything.” She didn’t move her gun away from his face. 

“Jun had no right to deceive the people and neither do I. The people must be able to believe their leaders.” 

Hrafnhar nodded her general agreement. 

“The false accusations will disappear as the truth is separated out from the lies. It’s not a clean slate, but it’s what you deserve.” 

Hrafnhar smiled a little bit. “Thanks.” 

“I’m willing to take things a step further, if you’re willing to work with me,” said the Chancellor hopefully. 

Hrafnhar cocked an eyebrow. “What exactly are you offering?” 

“Immunity— _if_ you’re willing to show me you’re not firmly in the Empire’s pocket. Jun believed you were in league with a Sith named Tormen. Is that true.” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “Not how I’d put it, but I know the cocksucker.” 

“Tormen’s a monster,” said the Chancellor. “His troops have been butchering Corellians. On Rabaan he—”

Hrafnhar held up a hand. “You don’t have to convince me. I know.”

“A man like that can’t be given more power. Let’s fix this while we’re in a position to do so.” 

“That Chancellor wants to make a liar out of you,” Torian warned. 

Hrafnhar frowned. “I’m only working with Tormen because he threatened the lives of you, and the rest of my crew,” she said. “ _Honor_ dictates that I pay Tormen back for that insult. I’d rather be a liar than a toady.” 

Torian nodded. “I’m with you. Dark Lord’s good sport at least.” 

She looked back at the Chancellor. “I’ll do it but you’d better keep your end.” 

The Chancellor nodded. “I understand the risk you’re taking. Thank you.” 

Hrafnhar shrugged and produced her comm to call Tormen. “It’s done.” 

“Good,” said Tormen. “Make for the _Tyrant_. The fleet will cover your escape.” He hung up.

“We’ll engage the Imperial fleet,” said the Chancellor. “But I have to survive this to hold up my end of the bargain. If you can somehow cripple the _Tyrant_ after dealing with Tormen, we can handle the rest.”

“Sabotaging two capital ships in one day, good thing I ate a hearty breakfast.” She holstered her weapon and left, moving quickly for the escape pods with Torian on her heels. She called Mako mid-power walk. “Hey, I need you to bail out of the hangar.”

“What? Why?” 

“Long story short, Torian and I are rendezvousing with the _Tyrant_ in an escape pod. Head back to Corellia. I’ll call if I need you.”

Mako frowned. “Alright. You two be careful.” 

Hrafnhar shrugged, hung up, and put her comm away before taking the only escape pod she and Torian _hadn’t_ crippled and flying it back to the _Tyrant_ , doing her best to work out a battle plan with Torian as they flew. 

Aside from the whole “Powerful Sith Lord” thing, this was the easiest bounty Hrafnhar had ever taken. The crew of the _Tyrant_ ignored her completely except when one of them directed her to where Tormen was waiting. 

Hrafnhar was keenly aware that she didn’t have her breastplate and that the death of the man beside her would probably kill her. 

Tormen had every advantage but surprise. 

But she had surprise and desperation, and that had to amount to _something_. 

She found Tormen and frowned at him. 

“You reek of vengeance and… satisfaction,” said Tormen. “The Supreme Chancellor’s death has excited your passions. Relish it. Experience some small measure of what it is to be Sith. Now, deliver what i have asked of you.” 

Hrafnhar exhaled and met his eyes. “Remember when you choked my friend?” 

Tormen’s expression sharpened. 

Hrafnhar brought her blaster up and fired, winging him in the shoulder as he moved to draw his lightsaber. “Fuck you.”

Tormen snarled, considered, and clipped his lightsaber back on his belt. “I will make an example of you _both_.” He threw his arms forward and Hrafnhar and Torian were both thrown back off their feet. Hrafnhar hit the security door on the far end of the hallway, knocking her head hard enough that she saw stars. 

Something tightened around Hrafnhar’s throat. She tightened her hand on her blaster. Tormen was a sadist. He’d want to see the light go out in her eyes. She looked out of the corner of her eye where Torian was holding onto his electrostaff with a deathgrip. If he went out, he wasn’t going to go out clawing for air. 

His suffering hardened her insides until her core was made of steel. She wouldn’t beg or plead. Not for Torian and not for herself. 

Tormen walked over to look in her eyes as she died. Hrafnar raised her blaster and shot him in his wounded shoulder. 

Torian hit the ground and the pressure around Hrafnhar’s throat tightened. “I expected better.” Tormen hissed. 

Hrafnhar lifted her other arm and sprayed carbonite spray directly into Tormen’s face. Her secret weapon. Her old standby. Her s86k. 

Torian grabbed Tormen’s lightsaber from off his belt as the Sith lord sputtered. He pushed the button and turned it on so the beam went through Tormen’s hips. 

Tormen screeched with pain and rage, Hrafnahr hit the ground and shot Tormen in the chest as she struggled to her feet. She shot him four more times before letting Torian catch her weight. 

“K’atini,” Torian said gently.

Hrafnhar nodded. “Yeah. Only pain.” She pulled out her comm. “Change of plans Mako, get to the _Tyrant_ and get here fast. I wanna be gone before anyone finds the fucking body.” 

“Finds the… _what did you do_?” 

“Long story, tell you when we’re safe.” 

* * *

Gault caught her arm as she and Torian boarded the _Varactyl’s Nipples_ and Mako took them away. “When you’re done, we need to talk,” Gault said. 

“Of course, my sweet flatcake. Whatever you need.” She limped up the stairs, rubbing the bump on the back of her head, with Torian at her back. Lowering her hand, she used the holoterminal to contact the Supreme Chancellor. 

Gault looked at the holo. “Weren’t you supposed to kill him?” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “You remember how Tormen almost choked Mako out?” 

Gault nodded. 

“Tormen is dead,” she turned her attention to the Supreme Chancellor. “I want my money and my immunity.” 

The Chancellor nodded. “Perhaps it’s for the best that I’m getting out of politics. Arranging assassinations couldn’t be farther from what I’ve stood for.” He sighed. “After falling this far, I suppose there’s no point in trying to recover my principles. Coming clean would only do more harm than good.” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “Honor matters. A _lot_.”

Gault stared at her. 

“But so does knowing when to cut and run,” she said with a shrug. “It’s an easy choice: make the one you can fucking live with.” 

He nodded. “We may be far from achieving a peaceful coexistence, but the fewer men like Tormen that come to power, the better our chances. As far as anyone knows, Tormen died in a foolish naval batter. Let’s leave it that way.” 

“I usually like taking credit for my kills. Particularly tough ones, and he was no fucking cakewalk. But I get it.” 

The Chancellor gave her a small smile. “I’m glad you weren’t the monster Jun made you out to be. You’ll be exonerated, as I promised. Even if my replacement questions the justification, overturning it would be more trouble than it’s worth. I’m also sending a small reimbursement for your lost wages. It isn’t much, but there are more important things than pride and wealth.” 

“There really aren’t,” Hrafnhar said with a shrug. “It’s just a matter of figuring out what you’re proud of. I’m a Mandalorian, Chancellor. I’m defined by what I do and who I fight.”

“Be well,” he told her. 

“Live in honor.” She replied. She turned off the holoterminal and turned around to face Mako as she came out of the cockpit. 

“Did you go back on a bounty for me?” Mako asked. 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “I mean, Tormen pretty obviously needed his dick sawed off and then rammed up his ass.” 

“I love you too,” Mako beamed. 

Hrafnhar gave a put upon sigh and shook her head. She opened her arms. “Come ‘ere.” 

Mako gave her a tight hug and Hrafnhar squeezed her back. “No one fucks with my Mako.” She let go of Mako and cleared her throat. “Set course for Dromund Kaas and see if you can rent us a little lodge out in the jungle. Full amenities but I want to be able to hike out and kill something or camp.”

“I’ll see what I can find,” Mako said, heading back to the cockpit.

Hrafnhar looked to Gault. “What, you want a hug too?” 

“Not particularly. Be we should talk in my office.” 

Hrafnhar followed him to his bedroom and settled on the plush chair he’d gotten to complete the room. He grinned at her. “You’re not going to believe this. I heard from Hylo.” 

Hrafnhar’s eyes widened. She felt… delighted. For someone else. Weird. 

He nodded. “She’s willing to take me back, _if_ I’m willing to show that she means more to me than me. Sent the message _certified_ , credits on delivery.” He sighed. “Almost cleaned me out just to have it delivered.” 

“Ooh, I like her style. I get to the be flower girl if you ever do things officially.” 

Gault laughed a little. “If I’m getting married it’ll be for money. And you’re probably stuck as the bride, Pumpkin.”

“Or if Hylo asks you.” 

“Then you’re stuck as my best man.” He smiled. “Hylo’s one-of-a-kind. Too bad it took me this long to figure it out. I feel like I’m back in my prime. Not that I’d slipped, I’m just… unburdened.” 

Hrafnhar nodded her understanding. She hadn’t really known what she was made of until Torian had been choked in front of her. Now she knew she had a core of beskar. 

“I owe you for that,” Gault said, looked away awkwardly. “So I thought I’d say it. Don’t go making a big deal out of it.” 

“We make a hell of a team, Gault.” Hrafnhar said.

“Probably because we got all that trying-to-kill-each-other business out of the way early. You and me, we’re going to carve out a criminal empire, or at least accumulate one heck of a fortune. Your children’s children won’t know what to do with it.” 

“Kids?” Hrafnhar laughed. “Can you honestly see me as a mother?” 

Gault chuckled. “With the way you look after Mako? Why not? Also I hear Mandalorians are big on having or adopting kids.” He pulled her out of the chair and squeezed her hand in lieu of a hug. “We’re going places, Hrafnhar, wild space is the limit.” 

* * *

“Okay,” Hrafnhar sighed, stretching out on the thin sleeping mat that covered the bottom of the tent. She smiled at him. “That was better than staying the night in the lodge with Gault, Blizz, and Mako. That was _probably_ better than the massage I would have gotten.” 

Torian, his fingers laced between hers, grinned down at her. “Marry me.” 

Hrafnhar blinked up at him. “I… are you nervous?”

“Terrified,” Torian admitted.

“You’re never nervous.” 

Torian squeezed her hand. “This is big.” 

Her smile strained a little. “My side of the aisle’s gonna be pretty sparse. We might have to sit Mako in the damn middle.” 

Torian let go of one of her hands. “Mando marriages are different. It’s a promise, one we make now. One we keep making.” 

Hrafnhar exhaled and nodded. “I’d marry you even if I had to put up with the pomp and ceremony chiss put into their banthashit.”

“Same,” Torian agreed. He sat up, pulling her with him, and held her hands loosely in his. “ _Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde,_ ” Torian said slowly. 

Hrafnhar took a breath. “ _Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde._ ” 

We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors.

When Torian kissed her it was tenderly, Hrafnhar twined her arms around his neck and kissed him back, just as slow and just as sweet. “We should head back and tell the others.” 

Torian pulled her close and pushed her back to the mat. “Later.” 

They finished and Hrafnhar kissed the underside of Torian's jaw. “I should… I should tell you who I was.” 

Torian curled her tight against him. “I know who you _are_ , _riddur._ ”

She smiled at that. “I'm mostly just concerned about it coming up again.” She pulled away from him and lay on her back, looking up at the tent roof. “My name was Rinnac,” she started off. “I was raised to be a military leader and a diplomat. And I was… I was good at it for about four years. I had to do a tour of standard military duty to prove myself and I… they assigned me to Hoth.” She pulled a hand over her face. “Sorry I just… I haven’t talked about this ever and it’s… it’s hard.” 

Torian set his cheek on her shoulder. “Take your time.” 

Hrafnhar exhaled. “Hoth was… boring. The most exciting thing that happened was when I discovered my parents had engaged me to my… friend I guess… Thon. I was staunchly opposed and fucking Thon just rolled over for them like a cheap date. I don’t know if it was that or the boredom that got me thinking about running away but about… shit, five years ago now I just bailed on my post. Mom sent some bounty hunters after me for the first year or so. That’s how I got the wrist missile launcher and the jet pack. I took up bounty hunting around then, thinking to stay a step a-fucking-head of whomever mom sent next.” She tilted her head to look at him. “This is the part where you tell me I shouldn’t have left my post.” 

Torian rolled to his hands and knees over her. “Made you who you are. No complaints.”

In the morning they packed up their small camp and made their way the mile downhill to where the hunting lodge was backed into the jungle hills. Hrafnhar grinned as she stomped the mud off her boots and walked into the lodge. 

Gault was reclining in one of the chairs by the fireplace swirling a glass of Tarisian wine apparently deciding to get an early start on the drinking. He acknowledged them with a small nod as Torian went to tell Mako.

“You two look like you’ve been up to something,” Gault said. 

Hrafnhar laughed. “We got married.” 

Gault dropped his glass. 

Hrafnhar laughed. “No, I’m serious. Mando marriages are just vows but we decided to have dinner with you guys to celebrate.” 

“You got _married_?” Gault asked. “In the sixteen hours we’ve been apart?” 

“Yeah.” 

Gault sighed and looked at his smashed glass of wine. “Are you happy?” 

She nodded. 

Gault picked himself up out of the chair. “Then I’m happy for you even if he’s an overly serious bore who’s bad for our bottom line.” 

Hrafnhar grinned. “Getting married doesn’t stop me from being me. Torian knows who am I and he… he loves me anyway.” 

Gault clapped her on the shoulder. “I’m going to find someone to clean up the mess you made, and then, I suppose, we’ll plan out this wedding din—”

“You got _married!_ ” Mako’s shout echoed through the elegant wooden building as she came down the stairs. “You just got married? Like it was nothing?” 

“Like it was a _lot_ ,” Hrafnhar said indignantly, looking up at Mako and Torian. “Never been that serious in my life and I’d like to avoid being that serious in the future. 

“So how are we celebrating?” Mako asked. 

“Dinner,” said Hrafnhar. “And I have to write a letter to my _buir_.” 

“Spooky,” Gault said helpfully. “Where did Blizz run off to?” 

“I think he was taking apart my spare blasters and trying to improve on them,” Hrafnhar said. “But that was 16 hours ago so, really, he could be anywhere.” 

“Maybe he got eaten,” said Gault.” 

Hrafnhar gave him a small shove and snorted a laugh. 

Dinner with her… clan. Sounded nice.


	18. I Grabbed My Nine, All I Heard Was Shells.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar is hired by Darth Occlus to go handle the situation on Ilum. To Quote Casablanca: "This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features the introduction of Katsulas, Darth Occlus. I'm using him courtesy of inkspot_fox.

“Call for you,” Mako’s voice rang over the intercom. 

Hrafnhar groaned and pulled herself free from Torian’s warmth. “Is it too much to hope you meant _Gault_?” she hollered. 

“ _Gault_ ,” Gault snapped from his bedroom, “is trying to sleep.” 

Hrafnhar kissed Torian and watched him jealously as he snuggled back down into the bedding. 

Pulling on clothes and running a brush through her hair because there was no time to braid it or put it up in a neat bun—much less both, Hrafnhar walked up the stairs to the holoterminal. She answered the blinking message and was greeted with a human male, no hair, red tattoo around one of his eyes. 

“You Hrafnhar?” he asked in a gruff voice, surprisingly, with a Republic accent. 

“Who the fuck are you?” her money was on crime lord, or that he _worked_ for a crime lord. 

The man on the holo folded his arms over his chest and snorted. “I represent Darth Occlus of the Dark Council. He has a job he’d like to hire you for.” 

Hrafnhar took a brief moment to be surprised and slightly confused before she responded. “Who’s he want, how’s he want them? There any reason he’s not going through the bounty board?” 

“He’s hiring you for protection mostly, assisting him with goals on Ilum. It’s not a standard bounty job.” 

“Isn’t Ilum an iceball?” 

“Yes.” 

Hrafnhar tossed her head lightly from side to side. She caught sight of Mako in the doorframe and thought immediately of Tormen. She’d been able to get away with putting him in his place, but a Dark Councillor would be different. She couldn’t disappear a Dark Councillor the way she did Tormen. Particularly not without a fleet battle to pin it on. 

“Fine,” she said, producing her datapad and the contract template Mako had drawn up. Her standard fee was already limping toward outrageous but she tacked on twenty percent for having to work with a sith, another five percent because he was a Dark Councillor (the Sithest of Sith) and an extra five percent for being forced to go to Ilum.

Maybe he’d decide it was unreasonable and he’d go _away_. 

Occlus’s representative looked over the contract and looked at her when he got to payment. “That’s a joke, right?” 

“I don’t like working for Sith.” Hrafnhar answered evenly. “That’s my fee, limpdick.” 

He snorted a laugh. “Fine, it’s what we’ve got the budget for anyway. Meet Darth Occlus on Ilum.”

“ _Where_ on Ilum?” Hrafnhar asked. “It’s a big fucking place.” 

“The cantina in the Imperial Military base. He’ll recognize you.” 

“Fine.” Hrafnhar said. She hung up and turned to where Mako was lurking. “Call wake you up?” 

Mako nodded and shrugged. “What’d you charge him?” 

“My standard fee, plus extra for having to deal with another Dark Lord.” Hrafnhar gathered her hair behind her like she was going to put it up and stopped when she realized she didn’t have a tie or anything. “Mako, I want you to draft up a new contract in the morning, secret sliding scale for Sith based on their rank within the Empire.” 

“Okay, but why?” 

“Because I should get paid extra to put up with monologues.” Hrafnhar gave a jaunty shrug of her shoulders. “But go back to sleep. I’ll punch Ilum into the autopilot.” 

Mako yawned and stretched. “Okay.” 

* * *

“You’re going _alone_?” Mako asked, her skepticism stretched with concern. “Hrafnhar… why the fuck?” 

“Because no one else gets Force choked because I’m lippy,” Hrafnhar said flatly. “Gault, see if you can round up any other work around here.” She set a hand on Torian’s arm. “It’s just to give you all something to do, I don’t know how long I’m going to have to follow the tiny Darth Nerd around.” 

Occlus was one of the youngest members of the Council. He might have _been_ the youngest Councillor ever but she didn’t know and, point of interest, she didn’t care. Mako probably knew more. Mako actually tried to keep up with the news. Hrafnhar mostly just kept up with the bounty board. 

They docked with the space station and Torian dragged her into another kiss. “ _K’oyacyi_.” 

“That’s the plan,” she kissed the line of his jaw. “Don’t fight with Gault while I’m gone.” 

Torian smiled and huffed a little. “No promises.” 

She shook her head with a sigh and ruffled Mako’s hair on her way out the door, her arsenal strapped to her various parts. She had clearance to the surface and at least Ilum had been Jedi territory, not chiss. So that was nice. 

The shuttle ride down was smooth. She shivered a little as she stepped into Ilum’s chill. Being chiss cut down on a lot of her worries about temperature, but Ilum was colder than Hoth by a fair bit. 

She might need a thicker jacket. 

She headed into the base and found the cantina. No one was cowering or scraping so she figured Darth Whatshisname wasn’t there yet. Which meant she could have a drink. But only the one because she was technically now on the clock. 

She headed to the bar when a human male held up a gloved hand to get her attention. He was _clearly_ Sith, from the dualsaber hooked on his belt to the way he was shrugging off the cold like it didn’t bother him. 

Hrafnhar frowned. He wasn’t the Darth. She was sure of that much. He was almost rabbity in his manners, jumpy and unsure of himself. Probably an apprentice then, because Darth Pubes couldn’t get off his high horse to meet the help. 

“Yo!” she said, walking over, one hand raised in greeting. 

The greeting seemed to surprise him and he jumped a little. “Hi?” 

He was _definitely_ just an apprentice, all rabbity and small. Hrafnhar’s grin got a little wider. Poor kid got a saddled doing the legwork. 

He cleared his throat. “I’m Katsulas—er— _Darth Occlus_. You must be Hrafnhar Lok.” 

Hrafnhar’s brain made a skidding sound. 

“I’m sorry. Fucking what?” 

“You… must be Hrafnhar Lok?” Darth Occlus repeated sounding a little confused. “The Champion of the Great Hunt?” 

“I—yes, I know who the fuck I am.” Hrafnhar pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re just… not what I fucking expected.” 

“What did you expect?” 

She cocked an eyebrow. “You must think I’m really stupid if you expect me to answer that now that I know who you are.” 

He cracked a small smile and laughed a little. “I’m not what Darth Marr expected either. Don’t worry about it.” He stood up and came up to just above her nipples. 

This wasn’t the real life. This wasn’t happening. 

“You look puzzled,” said the Darth.

Hrafnhar pressed her luck. “You’re _tiny_ ,” she breathed. “How are you so fucking short? I mean, even for a human you’re little.” 

Katsulas looked up at her. “I’m not _that_ —”

“We could put you in a robe and have a free pass into any salvage yard in the galaxy.” 

“Hey!”

She waited for him to tense and snap that he was a Dark Councillor, deserving of her respect and fealty and blah blah blah. Instead, he started laughing. The sound was almost jarring, being as she should probably have braced to be force choked or whatever. 

Instead, what he said was: “I’ve never been compared to a jawa before. Clever.” He smiled up at her. “Shall we get started?” 

“Sure,” she said, utterly disarmed. “What are we doing here?” 

“A few weeks ago Imperial scientists figured out a way to turn Adegan crystals into stealth tech for fighters,” Occlus said. “We won on Corellia, but it cost the Empire and now we’re fuckall outnumbered. So we need the technological advantage.” He shrugged his shoulders. “As usual, the Republic is interfering. Which makes sense, this is kinda their planet.” 

“So you’re invading again,” Hrafnhar said. 

“Yeah… pretty much.” 

“Awesome.” She cracked her neck. “You know what they say about Mandos and war.” 

Occlus shook his head.

“Makes us who we are. Also makes our cocks six inches longer and our tits perky.” 

Occlus chuckled. 

Hrafnhar wasn’t sure what to do about that, but she also wasn’t going to complain. He’d show his true colors eventually. She just had to wait and hope she wasn’t in the blast radius when it happened. 

“Where do we start?” 

“There’s a Jedi Master that’s been causing trouble. You, me, and Andronikos are going to assault the alie—the _duros_ troops he has surrounding his base, enter the base and pacify him.” 

“With lasers.” Hrafnhar nodded.

“Only if he won’t surrender,” Occlus said.

“Do Jedi Masters know _how_ to surrender?” she asked. “Besides, there’s something satisfying about popping them one in their smug faces.” It was very similar to the thrill of spraying a sith in the face with the the s86k and killing them while they tried to claw the carbonite out of their eyes. 

Not that she was going to mention this to her new boss. He might end up with a facefull of carbonite spray and she didn’t want to prepare him for the possibility. 

“So, where’s this Andronikos person? “ asked Hrafnhar. 

“Behind you,” said the gruff voice from the holo earlier. Hrafnhar looked over her shoulder at him, pleased to note that, from the thick jacket he was wearing, he was _not_ another Force user. 

He also wasn’t an Imperial, from the accent and the style of dress. 

Weird.

But also, perhaps, a good thing. 

“Let’s get this show on the road then,” Hrafnhar said. “I’m not charging by the hour like your standard prostitute and therefore want this over with.” 

A _look_ passed between Occlus and Andronikos that Hrafnhar couldn’t quite place but Occlus gestured towards the cantina exit and started off. 

The duros were dug in deep, but not deeply _enough_. Once they were dispersed—Occlus didn’t give the order to rout—Hrafnhar followed her Dark Lord to a temple. 

It was weird that Occlus was willing to get his hands dirty. Most Sith _delegated_ the dangerous stuff unless it was of the utmost importance. But here Occlus was, carving his way through mooks. She… couldn’t be sure if she appreciated it or not. Working with a Dark Councillor necessitated a certain amount of stick-up-the-ass that made Hrafnhar uncomfortable. 

She blaster a Jedi with a rocket as Occlus got their attention and followed him up to the force field. 

Andronikos started to slice the gate panel when a holo opened up. 

Hrafnhar stared, unimpressed, at the Jedi Master. He flaunted his Force sensitivity by wearing what looked like thin casual clothes (at least Occlus had on layers). She hated him. 

“Surrender,” said Occlus. “Save a life.” 

The Jedi snorted. “I opposed the Treaty of Coruscant, why would I surrender now when things are looking much brighter? You are on Jedi land, and I’m going to ask once for you to leave.”

“You’d think if it were Jedi land it’d look lived in,” said Hrafnhar. “I mean, I knew Jedi were frigid, but this is something else _entirely._ ” 

“The Jedi have built their temples here for years,” said Master Hrafnhar-Didn’t-Bother-To-Learn-His-Name. “These ruins are sites of pilgrimage and meditation. The crystals your Empire hopes to turn into a weapon of mass murder are proof of an invisible truth. The Force.”

Yeah, thought Hrafnhar, because no one knew what _The Force_ was.

“A Jedi does not kill until forced. I would sooner kill every Imperial on Ilum than allow these crystals to be desecrated.” 

Occlus sighed, more put upon than properly surprised. 

“That makes you a shit Jedi then,” Hrafnhar observed. “You know, like _most_ Jedi.” 

“I _literally_ offered a peaceful resolution,” Occlus groaned. “Why do they never take the easy option?” 

“Because they’re stupid,” Andronikos growled. 

Or maybe that was just his voice. As far as Hrafnhar could tell he’d growled everything he’d said. Maybe he was just like this. 

Occlus stuck his lightsaber through the gate control and Master Jedi Man leapt down from his tower with two elite duros troopers. Elite because their gear just _looked_ like it was in better condition. 

Hrafnhar took to the air and aimed her rockets at the troopers while Occlus got the Jedi’s attention. 

She landed on next to one of the bodies and shot a rocket at the Jedi Master. “Hey Master Jedi! What’s the difference between you and a corpse?” 

The Jedi ignored her. 

“Some might wanna fuck the corpse.” 

The Jedi turned his head briefly and that gave Occlus an in. His dualsaber bit into the Jedi’s side, deflected before he could slice all the way through the Jedi. But now the Master was limping, his teeth grinding together in pain. 

It wasn’t a long fight after that. Peppered by blaster fire from two different angles and gravely wounded, the Jedi missed a vital parry and his head hit the permafrost with a thump. 

“What the fuck was that?” Occlus asked, looked at Hrafnhar. 

“Effective.” She holstered her weaponry. 

“You’re wrong anyway,” Occlus said. 

Hrafnhar lifted an eyebrow. 

He pointed at the body. “Nobody wants to fuck that.” 

She snorted, rather than admitting to a laugh. Honestly, she wasn’t sure what to make of Occlus. She’d known him for a handful of hours and he kept acting like this. Like a _person_ and a reasonably funny one at that. 

She didn’t trust it. 

“We should get back to the Moff,” Andronikos said. “We can fuck corpses later.” 

“My husband would _probably_ take offense,” Hrafnhar said, turning to head back the way they’d come. 

“Only probably?” Occlus asked cocking a teasing eyebrow.

She shrugged and with a perfectly neutral expression said, “Depends on the corpse.”

Back at base camp, Hrafnhar followed Occlus into his meeting with the Moff (Regus, apparently) and stood at the back of the room watching the Moff and some Darth (Malgus, apparently) wave their cocks around in relation to a problem with some kaleesh occupying one of their crystal mines. 

She mostly tuned the conversation out because it was two people who _hadn’t_ hired her arguing about how an objective should be completed. All _she_ needed to worry about was what Occlus said about how they were completing the mission. 

Murder or recruitment didn’t matter much to her, the kaleesh were worthy sport in either case. 

“We’re recruiting them,” Occlus said firmly. “I’ll return once I’ve bolstered our numbers and recaptured the mine.”

He swept out of the room and Hrafnhar peeled off the wall to follow him. 

* * *

The rite of challenge was, in Hrafnhar’s learned opinion, pretty simple. They gathered the weapons of the best kaleesh warriors and presented them to the general as proof that Occlus was a badass and then Hrafnhar and Andronikos got to sit back and watch as Occlus negotiated with the kaleesh for a place in the Empire in exchange for their loyalty. It was a nice idea, but Hrafnhar didn’t think it would float. Regus would shoot it down and probably so would the Dark Council. 

But still, a cute idea.She followed Occlus and Andronikos back out beneath the crystalline chandelier of stars that lit up Ilum’s sky. 

“We should break,” Andronikos said. “Get some sleep in.” 

Occlus nodded his agreement. “I’ll check in with Regus.” There was an underscore of grumbling in his voice. “You two eat and find a place to sleep for a couple of hours.” 

Hrafnhar threw him a lazy salute and then followed him back to the outpost. She headed for the cantina and got herself a drink and something to eat, tucked into a booth where she could watch people without being bothered. The Ilum cantina was depressing. Probably more depressing than the cantina on Hoth had been. Almost no one was dancing, the food was bad, the liquor selection was sub-par. Everyone was cold and unhappy. 

She commed her ship. “Hey Mako.” 

“Hey Hrafnhar.” Mako yawned. “What’s up?” 

“I’m sitting in the saddest cantina I’ve ever seen and thought I’d call to see how things were on the ship.” 

“Pretty dull, Gault was cutting a deal with someone shady on the orbital and Torian left.” 

“Torian _left?_ ” Hrafnhar asked for clarification. 

“Said he had to meet Corridan and that he’d be back as soon as he could.” 

Hrafnhar relaxed. “Torian gets to go on a _fun_ hunting trip and I’m stuck here with Darth Tiny.” 

“How are things going?” Mako asked nervously. 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “I’m having a fuck of a time reading the guy but he’s pretty down to earth for a Sith lord. He’s smaller than you though.” 

“That’s because I’m not short, you’re just _tall_.” 

“He’s, like, a little bit taller than Blizz.”

“You’re exaggerating.” 

“Yeah but not by much.” 

Mako laughed at that. “When do you think you’ll be done?” 

Hrafnhar leaned back in her booth and shrugged. “No idea, when we’ve kicked the pubs off this terrible world or when the Darth decides that he’s done with me. Hope you’re not too bored.” 

“I spent so long digging into SIS systems that now that I’ve got most of the answers I needed I have no idea what to do with myself,” Mako admitted. “I’ll figure it out but… yeah. Downtime is really really boring.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault.” Mako yawned again. “I’m gonna head to bed though.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. “Yeah, I should do the same. Sleep tight snugglelump.” 

Mako rolled her eyes and cut the channel. 

Hrafnhar finished her drink and found a place to bed down for a couple of hours until the Darth needed her again. 

* * *

She was having a breakfast of protein bars when Andronikos pinged her comm telling her to meet up with him and Occlus outside of Regus’s command center. 

Occlus was fuming when she arrived. 

She raised an eyebrow at Andronikos who shrugged. “Regus is a speciest old man and we just have to put up with him.”

“So, let me get this straight. He,” she pointed at Occlus, “is upset that the Grand Moff doesn’t like aliens.” 

Andronikos nodded, arms folded over his chest.

“Was this a _surprise_ somehow? Pretty much the entirety of the Imperial navy doesn’t like aliens. Even chiss, who I might point out you guys have an alliance with.”

“I’m not _surprised_ ,” Occlus said tersely. “I’m just fucking mad about it. It’s a banthashit backwards attitude.”

“Huh,” Hrafnhar said. 

“Also,” added Andronikos, “I’m pretty sure Malgus is up to something.” 

She cocked an eyebrow at that. 

Occlus shrugged. “He’s orchestrating his own advancement. The only real question is _how_. Not that it matters to us, because we’ve got to go take out the Republic AA guns.” 

Hrafnhar enjoyed blowing things up. She let that thought warm her as she followed Occlus and Andronikos back out into the cold. 

They took fully winterized speeders to an Imperial waystation near the Republic’s base and contacted the squad assigned to taking out the ray shield. 

“Ambush!” shouted the Imperial on the other side of the holo. “It was a trap. The Republic were waiting for us at the shield generators. We’re under heavy fire. I don’t know how long we can—” He went down under a flurry of sparking plasma bolts. 

“Did you hear that?” said Grand Moff Regus, flickering into place on the holo. “Somebody’s played us for fools. The Republic artillery base is protected by a huge ray shield. We can’t destroy the anti-air guns until that ray shield is down.” 

Occlus folded his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrows, waiting. 

“It looks like you have a new mission, my lord. Destroy the shield generators and then attack the Republic artillery base and take out the guns.”

Occlus nodded. “I believe my team can handle that.”

“Good.” said the Grand Moff. “We can’t do anything with that ray shield up. Contact me from the Republic bass once both the shield generators and the guns are destroyed. My men will move in and clean up.” 

Occlus turned to Hrafnhar as the call ended. “Andronikos and I will hit the shield generators, the minute the shield is down use the heavy ordinance on the AA guns. We’ll try and meet you there.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. “Nothing makes me wetter than blowing shit to hell.”

Andronikos snorted a laugh.

Occlus stared at her. 

“I’m kidding,” she assured him. “I’m a married woman and my relationship only involves heavy ordinance on special occasions.” 

Occlus pulled a hand over his face. “Are you always like this or am I special?” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “Seems to me implying that a Sith lord is _special_ or implying that they’re anything but _unique_ is a good way to get your ass Force choked.” 

“You really don’t have to worry about that,” said Occlus. “Not for foul language anyway.” 

Andronikos shook his head, looking _almost_ disappointed but also entirely unsurprised. “You’re more likely to get shot for disrespect than choked,” he said. 

Hrafnhar cocked an eyebrow. “Well at least I’m used to that. See you kids at the cannons.” 

She headed off for the artillery base and found a place near the shield to hide. When it went down she hurried inside. Using her jetpack she got the drop on the guards at the base entrance and hurried past their corpses to destroy the first gun. She wrenched the control panel loose and tossed in a grenade, scurrying along to reach the next gun as it exploded. 

At the the third and final gun she was joined by Occlus and Andronikos. The former looked pleased. “Well done. We should contact Regus.” 

“Goodie.” Hrafnhar said under her breath. “You figure out who betrayed us?” 

“Malgus,” Andronikos said simply. “The only question is _why_.” 

Occlus nodded his agreement. “He’s probably trying to undermine Darth Arho. Arho’s already in disfavor with the council.”

Hrafnhar shook her head. “You guys don’t even _need_ the Republic to fuck shit up. You’re all intent on just trodding on one another’s dicks all the time.” 

Occlus sighed. “ _Yep_.” He gave a frustrated groan. “It is embarrassing how fucking right you are.” He lead them to a communications terminal and contacted the Grand Moff. “Regus, I’ve finished with the guns.” 

“We’re slicing the Republic’s computers now. Let’s see what they’re doing out there in the cold.” 

The call was interrupted as _someone_ sliced into their communications, and Regus was replaced by another man, human again with short black hair shaved in lines on his head. “Ah,” he said. “Master Kaedan’s killers. He was a good man and will be sorely missed.” 

“He was a shit Jedi,” said Occlus and Hrafnhar at the same time. 

The man on the holo looked very briefly taken aback and cleared his throat before resuming his little prepared speech. “Killing one great man is never enough. The Republic has always thrived on the effort of its united citizens. Lieutenant,” he said, looking over his shoulder. “Input the coordinates of the Imperial base into the ELX-25 and fire when ready.” He looked back at Occlus. “Give my regards to Moff Regus.” 

“Blast!” said Regus, having wrestled control back. “The ELX-25 was supposed to be in the planning stages. If it’s operational, it could obliterate our base with a single shot.” 

“What the fuck is the ELX-25?” asked Hrafnhar.

The Grand Moff ignored her. “My lord you must hurry.” 

“What the fuck is the ELX-25?” asked Occlus. 

Regus sighed. “An experimental long-range cannon. Supposedly years from completion, but the Republic must’ve built a prototype. Sounds like we’re the test.” 

“That’s not good,” said Hrafnhar. 

“We have to improvise,” said Regus, ignoring her again. “Based on estimates of the ELX-25’s range and the origin of the Admiral’s transmission, it should be at these coordinates. We have limited time and you’re closest, my lord. Destroy that weapon.” 

“We’re heading out now,” said Occlus. 

“Destroy the ELX-25, or we’ll have no choice but to retreat from Ilum.” 

Occlus checked the coordinates after the call ended and lead the way.

* * *

Hrafnhar had to wonder if it would actually kill the Grand Moff to look pleased to see them. Just once. 

“How did the Republic learn of our plans?” Regus asked himself as she followed Occlus and Andronikos into the war room. 

Darth Malgus came up behind them, big black cloak billowing behind him dramatically as he walked to the center to the room with his red armored guards. “All the more reason the Empire needs to reimagine itself for the changing times.” 

Hrafnhar frowned. Yeah, the Empire probably needed to fix its fucking attitude, but she couldn’t figure what shit for dick that had to do with the information leak. 

“Once we build the stealth armage, we won’t _need_ change,” Regus said stubbornly. 

Occlus shook his head. “You’re wrong. The Empire as it stands is stagnating.” 

Regus snorted but didn’t speak out against him. He cleared his throat to change the topic. “The Republic’s base is built into a cliff-side. The main fleet is going to batter the exposed side to oblivion. The objective is to claim the Republic crystal supplies, kill Admiral Shai, and open the docking bay doors so Imperial forces can clean up. You’ll be entering through this tunnel,” Regus pointed on the map. “And hitting deep within the mountain, where the fleet can’t reach.”

Occlus nodded his understanding. 

“And while you and the main fleet give the Republic a beating, I’ll prep the crystal fleet for the transfer of the Republic crystals,” said Malgus. 

“A two-pronged attack,” said Regus. “Are you on board?” 

Occlus nodded. “My team can handle that.” 

“Never a dull moment,” Hrafnhar said, folding her arms behind her head as she followed Occlus and Andronikos out of the outpost to where their speeders were waiting. They rode what felt like halfway across Ilum but probably wasn’t more than about thirty miles to the Republic base. 

They blasted their way in, Occlus taking point with his dualsaber and Hrafnhar and Andronikos harassing with blaster fire. Moving fast the trio entered the base and seized control of the crystals, holding position until Imperial reinforcements arrived to being managing the crystals. Hrafnhar suspected it had only worked because no one expected three people to turn a Republic base on its ass. 

With the crystals secure, Occlus gave the order to find Admiral Shai, who was apparently in charge. 

The Admiral was on the other side of the base. He glared at Occlus as they entered the room. “I hope you understand the futility of all this.” 

Occlus slowed his pace, forcing Hrafnhar to slow down to stay behind him. 

“You claim the crystals for the Empire,” the Admiral said. “You build your armada. We will find a way to detect it, to destroy it. And then the Empire will build something bigger and better. On and on and on. Until we destroy each other or the galaxy.” 

“Or you could surrender,” Occlus said with a little shrug. 

Hrafnhar snorted a laugh. 

“The Republic will never stop opposing you,” the Admiral said, pushing a button so a forcefield sprung up around him.

“The generators,” Occlus instructed. 

Three generators, three fighters. Hrafnhar, Andronikos and Occlus each hit a different generators and took out the repair droids that dropped from the ceiling. 

“Handle the troops,” Occlus shouted. “Leave Shai to me.” 

Hrafnhar turned her attention to the doorway where Republic reinforcements had arrived to bail their Admiral out of his well-deserved ass-kicking. She took to the air with her jetpack and fired her rockets at the bottleneck in the doorway. Landing and unloading both blasters into the fray until people stopped moving. She turned her attention to where Occlus had Shai on his knees. 

“Hrafnhar?” Occlus said, turning to her.

“Yeah?” 

“Take Admiral Shai back to base. Andronikos and I will wrap up here and meet you back at the cantina to settle your bill.” 

“Awesome.” Hrafnhar strolled over and sprayed the Admiral down with her s86k, freezing him solid so she could haul him back to base with minimal banthashit. 

* * *

Back in the cantina, she was paid the rest of her fee. Hrafnhar was almost surprised by how smoothly it had gone. Occlus didn’t make any speeches. He didn’t go on about how her service to the Empire had turned the tide of the war. He simply thanked her and expressed a desire to hire her in the future should the need arise. Hrafnhar gave a non-commital response and took the first shuttle off world. 

The broadcast came across the HoloNet while she was waiting for _The Varactyl’s Nipples_ to dock with the orbital. 

Malgus, standing as proudly and defiantly as any Sith she’d ever seen, announced the birth of a “new Empire”, one founded on cooperation with aliens. 

Hrafnhar cocked an eyebrow at the holo. She didn’t… disagree really. The Empire’s treatment of aliens wasn’t doing anyone any favors. They even treated their allies like shit. But she didn’t think forming a new Empire was as easy as just saying you were doing it. There were issues of resources and territories and the very real fact that the Empire and Republic had been kicking the shit out of each other for so long that they’d collaborate to squash anyone trying to insert themselves into the conflict. 

Her comm buzzed. She fished it out of a pocket. 

“Are you seeing this?” Mako asked. 

“If by _this_ , you mean Darth Malgus’s little power play, yes. You guys docked yet?” 

“We’re about to,” Mako said. “But what are you going to do about Malgus?” 

“Until I hear an offer?” Hrafnhar asked, heading to the elevator that would take her up to the umbilical. “Precisely dick. Besides, I’m a _filthy alien,_ remember? Seems to me like this is the Empire shooting itself in the dick. And that’s kinda funny.” 

“You’re terrible. We’re docked.” 

“Beautiful.” Hrafnhar tucked her comm away and headed through the umbilical to the ship on the the other end. Inside, she hollered. “So where’d my husband go?” 

“He said he was meeting up with Corridan and he wouldn’t be long,” Mako said, leaning over the railing on the second floor. “Should we hang out in case someone wants to pay you to stop Malgus?” 

Hrafnhar considered. 

“Nah.” 


	19. Hazard Pay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar works another solo job for Darth Occlus

Torian pushed a breastplate into her hands when he returned from his trip to see Corridan. He kissed her as she took the piece of armor. “Corridan helped me work the beskar,” he told her. “It’ll protect you when I can’t.”

“That’s insanely sweet.” She clutched the metal to her. “I missed you.” 

“Missed you too.” 

“You two are actively vomitous,” Gault said, heading from his room to the galley and forced thereby to walk past them. 

“Sorry,” Hrafnhar apologized, not feeling particularly sorry at all. She headed to her room to put the breastplate with her gear and then headed upstairs to where Mako was fiddling around with the new blaster Blizz had made her. “Anything exciting on the docket today?” 

Mako set her piece down. “You got an offer.” 

“Oh?” Hrafnhar leaned over the captain’s seat. “And who needs who in a bodybag?” 

“Nobody. It’s that Darth again. Darth Occlus? He wants to hire you as muscle again.” 

Hrafnhar frowned. “I would think, after we fleeced him last time, he would know better.” 

“Well it looks like you impressed him.” Mako shrugged. “Or he thinks you’re cute.” 

Hrafnhar gagged. “I’m pretty sure he’s fucking his second in command. Or being fucked by. There was a _vibe_ there.”

Mako laughed. “I’ll trust you to unravel the hedonism of the Dark Council.”

“That’s probably a _lot_ of hedonism.” Hrafnhar stretched out. “The Sith are all about ‘reveling in their passions’. Like the Imperial nobility but worse.”

“ _Stars_ ,” said Mako. “Do you remember Lady Dak-Ah?” 

Hrafnhar scanned her brain. “Wait, was that the noble woman who thought that the best way to hide her boyfriend was to pretend she was fucking her brother?” 

Mako nodded. “What is _wrong_ with some people?” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you. So where’d Occlus want to meet up?” 

“Off world near Kaon,” Mako said. “In the Tion Hegemony. That part of space has been lighting up.” 

Hrafnhar spun the captain’s seat and dropped into it. “What do you mean ‘lighting up’?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow at Mako. 

“I mean travel warnings up the everywhere. No news though, the Hegemony must be suppressing something big,” Mako said. “Occlus mentioned rakghouls.” 

“...off of Taris?” 

Mako nodded. “They’ve got it all shut down to try and quarantine the situation, but the panic is pretty bad.” 

“Yeah, that’ll happen when fucking rakghouls get involved. Still, if he’s willing to brave my Sith rates to hire me for this job I’ll take it.”

“Great I’ll set course for K—”

“For the Imperial Fleet,” Hrafnhar interrupted. “You, Gault and Torian are going _nowhere near_ and active Rakghoul zone. Sniff around for work with the BBA and I’ll call for a pickup. At least we know I can’t get the plague.” 

“You’re so cute when you’re worried.” 

“If you’re angling for a threesome, Mako, I already told you I cleared it with Torian,” Hrafnhar lied. 

Mako wrinkled her nose. “You’re _terrible_.” 

Hrafnhar blew her a kiss. 

* * *

Hrafnhar caught a shuttle from the Imperial Fleet to rendezvous with Darth Occlus aboard the _Ziost Shadow_. Darth Occlus gave her a short, acknowledging nod. He was alone, which made sense giving as Andronikos had been pretty damn human. She raised her eyebrows at him in return for the nod and waited for the ‘you should bow’ throat clear. 

It didn’t come. 

“We’re here at the request of Darth Nurin,” Occlus explained. “To deal with the situation in the Tion Hegemony.” 

Hrafnhar’s expression went flat. She hadn’t been aware of the other Sith calling the shots. What she _said_ was, “you mean the fucking rakghouls.” 

Occlus nodded. “Yeah, the fucking rakghouls.” He gestured with one arm deeper into the ship. “Nurin may be the one who orchestrated this operation, but you work for me.” 

Hrafnhar shrugged like she didn’t care, attempting to belie her discomfort with finding _another_ Sith at the head of things. It felt ripe for Sith politics and she wanted _desperately_ to not be involved in Sith politics. 

Still, she followed Occlus to the war room and stood behind him with her arms crossed over her chest as they were introduced to Darth Nurin, a human female. 

“Good. You’re here, my lord,” Nurin gave Occlus a bow. “I’ve been monitoring the situation in the Tion Hegemony. Things are getting worse. The Tion noble families have quarantined all worlds in the sector—no ships can land or leave without permission. The announcement was not popular. Those trapped on the infected worlds feel betrayed by their rulers.” 

“Continue,” Occlus said. 

Nurin nodded. “Four worlds have been completely overrun. A fifth, Kaon, is down to a handful of survivors battling for their lives. Among those survivors are several nobles related to the ruling family. But we will have to act quickly if we want to rescue them.” 

Occlus looked to Hrafnhar. 

She shrugged, uncomfortable with two Darths looking at her. “You’ll get what you paid for.” 

“My lord,” Nurin turned her attention onto Occlus. “The survivors may know something about the plague’s origins. It’s our best chance to learn who is behind this. Whoever unleashed this plague is trying to destabilize the Tion Hegemony so they can swoop in and seize power. Someone with that kind of ambition could become a dangerous rival if left unchecked.” 

Hrafnhar wanted to ask who was dumb enough to fuck with the rakghoul virus. But she’d _met_ the Sith. The plague itself had started out as a weapon because the bastards weren’t satisfied with just lightninging each other to death. 

Occlus nodded to Nurin. “Do we have any leads?”

“We have a contact on Kaon: Major Byzal, head of local security. He’s cleared a shuttle to take you don’t to the surface. Major Byzal will contact you with a situation update after you land.” 

Occlus nodded again and swept out of the room.

Hrafnhar followed him, her arms swinging at her sides until she climbed into the shuttle after the Dark Lord. She sprawled out to make herself comfortable. Occlus took up less room, but seemed to relax a little. 

“I appreciate you coming along for this, I know rakghouls are nobody’s favorite.” 

“You’re shelling out a _lot_ of money,” Hrafnhar reminded him. “And hey, unlike those dearest to me, I can’t catch the virus.” She frowned, “So… can Sith? I mean, I know _humans_ can, but if I remember properly you Force types have like, perfect control of your shit.” 

Occlus shrugged. “I can purge most illnesses, so I’m probably fine.” 

“He said, shortly before sprouting claws.” 

“Are you this mouthy with everyone?” 

“Yes.” 

Occlus smiled a little. “Good.” 

* * *

Hrafnfar wondered if the sky had _always_ been green on Kaon. It seemed likely, probably the rakghouls shitting things up hadn’t managed to really heavily fuck up the environment itself, but you never really knew. 

She followed Occlus into the city, blasters drawn. They passed what remained of Kaon’s security forces: terrified men and woman trying to hold a small sector of the city. For what it was worth, she hoped they managed. It was gonna be really hard getting back to her husband if the rakghouls took the landing pad. 

They didn’t encounter rakghouls first. As they neared the edge of the quarantine zone, Hrafnhar heard screaming and pleading over the familiar whistle of blaster fire. They rounded a corner to watch a flood of humans crash against the security personnel, trying to reach the landing pad or just get to safety. 

Occlus threw a arm forward and knocked about ten of the aggressors back and that was all the signal Hrafnhar needed to open fire into them. Mercenaries and aristocrats alike hit the floor in a mess of blasterbolts and rockets. 

Hrafnhar couldn’t blame them for being desperate, but they were also all human. 

Any one of them could have been a carrier and this _needed_ to stay quarantined. She would have rather this have stayed quarantined on _Taris_. 

She followed Occlus deeper into the city. He paused, one hand coming up to touch his ear piece, and then turned to face her. “There are nobles and bodyguards heading for the spaceport. They think they can fight though the rakghouls, get a ship and break quarantine.” 

“Meaning they’ll spread this banthashit even further,” Hrafnhar said. “We can’t let that happen.” 

Occlus nodded. “According to my map, the spaceport is this way.” 

“I’m following you, bright eyes,” Hrafnhar said with a shrug. “You’re the brains of this operation, I’m just here to make sure you come back in one piece and unchewed.” 

Occlus headed towards the spaceport, Hrafnhar hot on his ass as she listened for clawed feet, screams and rending flesh. 

Instead of screams she heard the howl of an engine and turned to watch a shuttle take off and then crash into the city. Hrafnhar brought an arm up on instinct to block the view of the explosion despite it being too far away to have been hazardous. 

“Why would they have _panicked_ ,” Occlus said to whoever was on the other end of the radio. “They were already in the air.” 

“I don’t know,” Hrafnhar drawled, feeling a spike of fear in her chest. “Maybe rakghouls?” 

Occlus looked at her and nodded. “We’ve got to get to the crash site.” He took his hand away from his ear. “There might be survivors.” 

“Would that be good or bad?” Hrafnhar asked. 

Occlus huffed a mirthless laugh and shrugged his thin shoulders. “I hate it when that’s a legitimate question.” He started moving. 

“Oh wow,” Hrafnhar said dryly, following him. “I am imbued with confidence.” Despite her misgivings, she kept an easy pace with him as they continued through the ruins of the city heading for the clearly visible fires at the crash site. 

They reached the crash site at the same time as Major Byzal’s security team. The Major held up a hand to keep them back as his team started forward to look for survivors. 

A body started to pull itself free of the wreckage. Hrafnhar’s grip tightened on her blasters. There was a pop and the man’s head exploded as a blaster bolt passed through it. No one wanted _survivors_ , not with the quarantine being enforced. 

A screech jerked everyone’s head to the left. Too fast for the team on the ground, rakghoul-plagued bodies ripped from the crash and rushed forward in a wave of white eyes and gnashing teeth. 

Hrafnhar and Occlus hurried down the stairs to try and help out. Hrafnhar aimed for heads as she planted her feet and fired to provide covering fire for Occlus who employed equal parts lightsaber and Force technique to drive the slobbering hordes back. 

When the immediate threat had passed, Hrafnhar and Kat backed towards one another. Major Byzal, the last survivor of either the crash or the security team, walked towards them. 

“Those things would have torn me to pieces,” Byzal said. “You saved my life. Never thought I’d be glad to see the Empire on Kaon.” 

“Believe it or not, we’re actually here to help,” Occlus said. “And, let’s be real, you _need_ the help.” 

Byzal gave a grim smile. “I want to believe that. But you gotta expect a little suspicion, given your reputation. Truth be told, a lot of people on Kaon actually blame the Empire for this outbreak?” 

“No fuckin’ way,” Hrafnhar said with a little shrug. 

“Way,” Byzal said with a small snort. “They figure an infected ship was intentionally sent here to destabilize the system.” 

“Well, what do you think?” Occlus asked. 

Byzal shrugged. “The Empire’s done far worse in its day. But if _you’re_ not responsible, there’s one way to prove it.” He hobbled a little ways away. “Checking the records at the spaceport will show where the infected ship came from. Should tell us who’s behind this, one way or another.” 

“You didn’t check that fucking first?” Hrafnhar scoffed. 

“Our _first_ priority was enforcing the quarantine. Couldn’t let this spread. But I’ve got patrols headed to the spaceport now. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some—” Byzal curled inwards. “My chest is on _fire_! Argh.” 

Hrafnhar tightened her grip on her blaster as he staggered back. “No! It was just a scratch… ungh. One scratch can’t turn me into—Please—do _something_.” 

Hrafnhar aimed and fired. Byzal’s head opened up like a melon and he collapsed to the ground at Occlus’s feet. 

“He was dead anyway,” she said before anyone could question the decision. 

“I know,” said Occlus. He sounded tired. “Let’s hurry to the spaceport. Once we find who’s responsible for this, we can get off this hell hole.” 

“After you,” she gestured forward, feeling grim. 

No one _liked_ committing mercy killings. It wasn’t a thing that felt _good_. 

They proceeded into the husk of the city. Into the silence and the smoke. The hair on the back of Hrafnhar’s neck stood up. At length they reached a sector that had been entirely blocked off by vehicle crashes and Occlus covered Hrafnhar as she laid some charges. 

They’d avoided attracting any attention up until now, but the blast would summon a horde and there was no way around it. Closing her eyes briefly and exhaling through her nose, Hrafnhar blew a hole in the wall and then turned around with both blasters up and ready. 

Rakghoul-plagued bodies (Hrafnhar couldn’t think of them as anything else) poured from both sides of the tunnel. Occlus headed one group off at the pass, purple lightsaber humming in the dark. Hrafnhar took to the air for as long as her jetpack would hold her, firing missiles and rockets into the white-eyed crowd. 

The minute she landed she was rushed, Short nails raked at her skin as she tried to aim her blasters and ended up firing wildly into the horde. She kneed and kicked and elbowed and screamed as more and more hands grabbed at her. Teeth, blunt teeth, sank into her forearm and Hrafnhar screamed. 

She was going to die. 

_No_. Hrafnhar wrenched her arm out of the plaguebearer’s mouth, elbowed it in the nose to knock it back, and shot it in the face. Using the last of her jetpack fuel, she vented the exhaust with enough force to blast the rakghouls back so she could get to a wall and protect her back. Blood seeped down her arm to pool in the palm of her hand and drip onto the pavement. 

Hrafnhar raised both barrels didn’t stop firing until they were both overheating in her hands. She could smell oxidization, the blood boiling where it had cupped in her palms. It hurt, but it didn’t hurt enough to stop her.

Occlus cleared the way, spinning through the plagued bodies, shunting them away and frying them with electricity. 

He turned to Hrafnhar as the last plaguebearer dropped dead. “Are you al—you’ve been bitten.” 

Hrafnhar holstered both blasters and pulled out a bandage to wrap her new bite mark. “I’m _chiss_ , don’t get jumpy.”

Occlus nodded. “You alright?” 

“Other than the fact that some chucklefuck _bit_ me? Yeah.” Her heart was going three kilometers a minute. She looked into the tunnels and exhaled. “Look, I know a trick that might get us through this, but it’s fucking nasty.” 

Occlus looked at her, frowning gently. “How gross?” 

“I need shit, blood, and a fresh corpse gross.” Hrafnhar tightened the bandage on her arm with her teeth. She’d have to get it cleaned out and looked at. Human mouths were disease factories even _without_ the rakghoul plague fucking things up. “But, it would keep the rakghouls from sniffing us out. We’d have to step lightly, but we wouldn’t get jumped immediately.” 

“Gross or not that’s probably our best option. Are the blood and… shit no longer contagious?” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “I picked the recipe up from a human and he’s still human, so probably.” 

They gathered the materials and Hrafnhar fought not to gag as she combined them the way Torian had shown her back on Taris. When the mixture was ready, Hrafnhar gagged and smeared it over her bare arms and cheeks, trying not to retch. 

“I _liked_ this outfit,” Occlus complained as he followed suit. “Fuck, that’s foul.” 

“You saw what went into it,” Hrafnhar said. “What were you expecting?” 

Occlus snorted. 

They made their way into the tunnels and crept through as quietly as they could. Every now and then, Occlus would touch his ear piece as someone said something and everytime he’d shake his head with defeat. 

They were on their own. 

Both of them perked up as they heard blaster fire. They hurried forward in time to watch a small pack of proper rakghouls (as opposed to plagued bodies) stalking towards an enclave of survivors. 

Occlus disappeared and then the reappeared directly in front of the rakghouls. He shunted them all backwards with the force. 

“ _Shit_ ,” Hrafnhar swore, firing into the rakghouls as they gallopped towards Occlus. She reached him and glared. “You know, protecting you is a lot easier when you _don’t_ reappear in front of a fucking rakghoul pack. _Your grace_.” 

Occlus shrugged. “It worked.” 

Hrafnhar snorted at him and opened her mouth to deride him about it, the general terror of their situation making her bold. 

They heard screams coming from behind them. From the survivors. Occlus and Hrafnhar whirled around and watched as rakghouls broke down through the ceiling. Occlus and Hrafnhar hurried to help, clearing out the rakghouls as best and as quickly as they could but there was nothing they could do for the survivors. 

Hrafnhar figured half of them would be rakghouls within the hour. The change was quick and they were all human. 

Unable to help, Occlus set his expression with a worried frown and lead Hrafnhar deeper in, through the transit district to the spaceport. The deeper they went, the fewer plagued humans there were and the more proper rakghouls. The foul-smelling paste spread over Hrafnhar and Occlus, along with some Force tricks on Occlus’s part, kept them undetected. 

The rakghouls at the entrance to the spaceport were… different. They stood on two legs and were using advanced weaponry. 

Which was… weird. She was going to focus on it being weird because what it _was_ was pants-shittingly terrifying. 

Hrafnhar and Occlus engaged them from a distance. Hrafnhar taking pot shots while Occlus deflected the rakghoul’s fire. They advanced slowly even after the rakghouls were slumped over dead, expecting movement. Expecting that it was all a trap. 

“Well, they’re not nekghouls,” Occlus said, sticking his dualsaber through one just in case. 

“Well that’s something at least,” Hrafnhar muttered, mostly under her breath. “They shouldn’t be using tools though.” 

“I agree.” 

It was worse than just ‘using tools’. Hrafnhar threw herself back into the narrow corridor as the scream of blaster bolts whistled through the air. 

“Was that a fucking _assault cannon_?” she asked Occlus, hissing the words through her teeth. 

Occlus nodded. “Looked that way.” 

“ _Great_ ,” Hrafnhar growled. “I was hoping for a new fuckhole. Maybe I can get them to stick it where my spleen’s supposed to go.” 

Occlus stared at her. “A new… fuckhole,” he repeated. 

“Yes,” Hrafnhar peered into the spaceport and spotted the rakghouls with the assault cannon. “A new hole to fuck.” 

“You’re… terrible.” 

“I’m also your _best friend_ if we want out of here.” Hrafnhar exhaled through her nose. “Think you can deflect that that?” 

Occlus nodded. 

“Good. You get their attention, I’ll go around the other side and catch them from the back. They can’t _smell_ us coming at least. They’ll have to rely on whatever other senses a rakghoul has because the motherfuckers don’t really have eyes, do they?” 

“I’ve never really noticed,” Occlus admitted. “I avoid getting too close to them.” 

Hrafnhar doubled back to the other entrance and waited until Occlus had the attention of the three rakghouls. She crept as quietly as she could towards them and lined up a shot. Her blasters had low recoil at the cost of not packing the same punch, but that wouldn’t matter if she could get three shots in the head of the rakghoul with the assault cannon while his buddies were occupied with Darth Occlus. 

She fired and the target slumped. The sudden silenced attracted the attention of the other two rakghouls but as they turned Occlus spun through them, effectively disemboweling them both. 

Something clattered over from above them. Hrafnhar and Occlus exchanged a silent look and the took off to the droid station at the top of the ramp. 

A human woman held both of her hands up as they breached the top. “Hold on, hold on, hold on. Don’t shoot. Not a rakghoul. Just a harmless shuttle pilot. Name’s Melarra. Look, I need to get off this world. And I know how this whole rakghoul outbreak started. So maybe we can swing a deal.” 

Occlus narrowed his eyes and asked, “Are you infected?” 

“Like she’s gonna say ‘yes’ if she is,” Hrafnhar snorted, pointing both blasters at Melarra

Occlus sniffed a little. “Fair point. But I can tell if she’s lying.”

He could _what_? No. Force users being able to tell if you were lying or not was an old wives tale. She’d lied to Force users before, hadn’t she?

She couldn’t properly remember now. 

But probably. And probably Occlus was just talking trash to scare their guest. Because being a big scary Sith lord (not that Occlus was anything but bitty) wasn’t scary enough. 

“N-n-n-no way.” Melara stammered. “I’m clean. So don’t get all nervous and take me out if I sneeze, okay? Just listen to what I have to say.” She cleared her throat, eyes darting to Hrafnhar’s blasters. “So, uh, these rakghouls? Yeah. I brought them. On my shuttle. But I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m just a pilot. I was hired to fly here. My boss is the one you want.” 

“And who _is_ your boss?” Occlus asked, crossing his arms over his chest and standing straighter. 

“You heard of Doctor Lorrick? He’s a member of the Thirty-seven families, the main political rivals of the royal family. Hired me to make a delivery to Kaon. Soon as I touched down, the rakghouls came pouring out. It was ugly.” 

Hrafnar frowned. “Well that’s not how every rakghoul _I’ve_ ever met behaved. What’d he do? Tell ‘em to sit and stay?” 

Melarra shrugged. “You could be right. They weren’t acting like mindless beasts during the attack. Seemed like they had a purpose.” She licked her lips nervously. “Lorrick double-crossed me. Now I get to return the favor. He’s hiding out at a secret base on Ord Mantell. So, uh, that’s about all I know. Now, you ready to get me off this rock?” 

“After you get properly screened, of course.” Occlus said with a nod. 

Hrafnhar gave her a wicked, intimidating grin. “Otherwise I pop you in the head and continue the little streak I’ve got going.” 

“I imagine that’s a no-brainer,” said Occlus. 

Hrafnhar stared at him for a long moment. Did he just… was that a _pun?_ “Ugh,” she said, shaking her head. She holstered her blasters. 

It took Occlus a moment to realize that he’d made a pun. He brought a hand up and covered his eyes, shaking his head. “Pun _unintended_.” 

Melarra looked from the Sith to Hrafnhar and back again. “So… medical droids… fun. Fun fun fun.” 

Occlus produced a comm and called for a shuttle. 

* * *

Hrafnhar took a moment to be grateful that the _Ziost’s Shadow_ had barracks and the refreshers that came with them. She was lent an Imperial uniform because her clothes were a wash at that point. Imperial uniforms were a little too much like chiss uniforms for Hrafnhar to feel comfortable in it. But she was clean and the bite on her arm had been looked at by a medical profession and properly wrapped. 

She waited outside the room while Occlus and Nurin discussed their next plan. She pushed off the wall she was leaning on as Occlus exited the room and looked at her. 

“So?” 

“I need to contract your services a little longer,” Occlus said professionally. 

Hrafnhar raised an eyebrow. 

He slumped a little and rolled his eyes. “I need to deal with Lorrick’s base on Ord Mantell before someone _else_ decides they want to play around with a weaponized rakghoul virus.” He paused. “A _further_ weaponized rakghoul virus. Fucking thing was a weapon to begin with.” 

Hrafnhar wanted to go _home_ but she studied the diminutive Sith lord and nodded with a sigh. “The _last_ thing I want is a rakghoul outbreak. I’ve got too many humans and devronians in my life. We’ll just extend the fee your paying me for another day.” 

Occlus nodded his agreement. “You know, when I first saw your fee I assumed it was a ripoff, inflated because you won the Great Hunt, but you really are the best.” 

The rate she’d charged, and would continue to charge, Occlus _was_ inflated, but not by the fact that she’d won the Great Hunt. 

“Aw,” Hrafnhar winked. “Flattery will get you everywhere but my knickers. I’m a happily married woman.”

“Knickers,” Occlus repeated skeptically and then shook his head. “Anyway, you’re… You’re not my type.” 

“Blue?” Hrafnhar asked, more bored than curious. 

“Female.” Occlus shrugged. 

Hrafnhar laughed at that. “You know, I’d suspected, but it’s nice to have it confirmed.” She shrugged her shoulders. “So where am I crashing tonight?” 

“I’ll requisition rooms for both of us here aboard the _Ziost’s Shadow_ ,” Occlus said. “Get some rest.” 

She tossed him a lazy salute and produced her comm as Occlus headed off to requisition the rooms. “Hey babe,” she said as Gault appeared in the palm of her hand. “The kids off doing something nefarious?” 

“Mako dragged Torian with her on resupply,” said Gault in miniature on her palm. “You coming home soon darling?” 

Hrafnhar shook her head. “Job’s not done. Just wanted to check in.” 

“Everyone’s in one piece, eager for you to get back so we can do something _other_ than hang out around the Imperial fleet.” 

“Soon, I hope. We’ve got to run to Ord Mantell.” 

“Have fun,” Gault said. 

Hrafnhar snorted and decided not to clue him in on everything that had happened and everything that _might_ be happening. “See you soon, Babycakes.” 


	20. Freak Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar helps Occlus clear out the lab of Dr. Lorrick.

It was a two day flight to Ord Mantell and close quarters with the Sith lord was making Hrafnhar antsy. She missed her crew and she didn’t like that she was separated from them in order to do something as staggeringly unpleasant as track down a scientist in the middle of his _rakghoul lab_. 

Rakghouls were terrible enough without someone trying to figure out how to make them _worse_. Not just _anyone_ but a _human being_ ; humans were already susceptible to the rakghoul virus, you’d think it would be in their best interest to not make things worse. 

The Imperial uniforms she and Occlus were both stuck in until this banthashit was handled wasn’t making her feel any better. To offset it, she’d braided her hair into two loops that stuck into her bun instead of one long braid down the back. An unprofessional hairstyle no stiff-necked Imperial would wear with their uniform. She toyed with her gold braid clasp on the descent into Ord Mantell and then tucked it into a pocket. 

Occlus had his top button unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up, almost like he was acting out against the uniform. 

Which was fair. That was certainly what _Hrafnhar_ was doing. The big difference was that he was a damn Imperial and she was not. 

They were set down near the coordinates for Lorrick’s lab and Hrafnhar set her hands on her hips in annoyance. “That is a volcano,” she said.

“Yeah,” Occlus said, looking equally irritated. “That pilot didn’t mention it was in a fucking volcano.” 

Hrafnhar sighed and produced her blasters. “Come on, he’s not going to stop fiddling with the fucking rakghoul plague until we shove a lightsaber through his trachea.” 

Occlus nodded and ignited his dualsaber. 

They hurried along the shore line, dispatching monitoring droids as they went in hopes of keeping their arrival as quiet as possible. Herds of slow moving herbivores that Hrafnhar didn’t recognize milled around, apparently unphased by the lava that was forcing Hrafnhar to sweat and making her a little bit dizzy. 

Occlus opened the door with the force, reaching a hand out and then jerking it upwards so the door flew upwards and they could enter. 

“Neat trick,” Hrafnhar said. 

“Well I wasn’t lifting it by hand.” 

“ _That_ I would fucking watch,” Hrafnhar said following him inside. “Though honestly, I don’t think you could even lift _me_ without the force, Darth Noodle-arms.” 

Occlus laughed. 

The entryway was dark. Hrafnhar’s eyes took the limited light and magnified it like a loth-cat. Occlus, however, switched on a light with a wave of his hand. “We’re not alone.” 

“Gee,” she said, “I never would have guessed that the rakghoul lab is full of, wait for it, probably rakghouls.” 

“And droids, and probably scientists as twisted as Lorrick, and animals used for testing and it’s mostly just weird that the entry way was dark.”

“Maybe they know we’re coming and are hoping we’ll just assume nobody’s home.” 

Occlus nodded absently and squinted at something across the room. He left Hrafnhar’s side for a moment. 

A man’s voice filled the room. “Progress on the enhanced strain of the rakghoul virus is slow, but I will not be daunted.” 

“Enhanced strain,” Hrafnhar said while the recording played. “Because those are words I wanted to hear. Figure this was Lorrick?” 

“Yes, let me listen.” 

“—Those who cast me out will bow down before me. They will cry for mercy and be rewarded with death.” 

“Wow. What a tool.” 

Occlus chuckled. “That’s putting it mildly, which I’m guessing is unusual for you.” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “Gotta dress up your manners when you’re running around with a fearsome lord of the sith.” 

“That hasn’t stopped you before.” 

“Who said you were fearsome?” She waited for the snap. The Force around her neck. She waited for oblivion.

“I can be fearsome!” Occlus protested. “I’m just… do you have any idea how _exhausting_ the whole fucking charade is? Because it’s exhausting.” 

Hrafnhar laughed a little. “Yeah, I’m getting that.” 

Stars above, he was growing on her and that was the _last_ thing she needed. Gault would never let her live it down if she became buddies with a Dark Council Member. Though unlike everyone else who would just worry, Gault would look for an angle to exploit. 

She loved Gault. 

Blasters at the ready, Hrafnhar followed Kat deeper into the lab. She fired over his shoulders into the test animals that had been released. Hrafnhar was grateful, and not for the first time, that she did most of her fighting at range. 

Occlus closed with the beasts, using a combination of lightsaber skills and lightning to keep the attention of the main body of animals while Hrafnhar picked them off with her blasters. 

She watched the door while Occlus found and played another recording hidden in amidst the empty kolto tanks. 

“I’ve modified the rakghoul virus to cross the species barrier—” 

Hrafnhar went temporarily deaf as her brain skittered over the sentence like a rock on a pond. Modified. Cross. Species barrier. Modified to cross the species barrier. Slowly her eyes moved over to the bandage hidden beneath her imperial jacket. She’d been bitten on Kaon. She’d taken the stupid vaccine but… what if it didn’t work? Now, with the _normal_ rakghoul virus the change was pretty quick. But what if it was different with the modified plague? What if she turned when she was home? What if she ripped out Mako’s throat and Torian had to put her down? What if she bit Gault? 

“Hrafnhar?” Occlus asked. 

“Do you think they changed how long the turn takes?” she asked, biting down on the thread of fear trying to pierce her words and grinding it between her teeth. 

“I,” Occlus cleared his throat. “I don’t know. Do you want… I understand if you need to return to your ship.” 

Hrafnhar exhaled a slow breath through her nostrils. “I leave here, you’ll get over run and die.” She needed time. Time to process and time to see if a turn triggered. She wouldn’t bring _this_ home with her. She wouldn’t expose the people she cared about, her _clan,_ to this. Besides, Lorrick had made it personal without even knowing. She needed the data. She needed to know if he’d modified the virus before or after sending troops to Kaon. 

“I’ll include further hazard pay with your fee,” Occlus said. 

Hrafnhar nodded. “You fucking better. Let’s get going.” 

The deeper into the lab they went, the more overrun it got. Occlus uncovered another recording, it turned out that the _other_ scientists present thought they were making a cure. Admirable. Stupid. 

They made it outside, past the beast cages, and looked around to get their bearings, standing above a molten river. Hrafnhar moved quickly off the light-bridge, never comfortable standing on something someone could just turn off for longer than was required. 

“Move!” Occlus punted her out of the way as a colossal savrip slammed into the ground where she’d been standing. It roared, eyes glowing a sickly green. Hrafnhar jumped back to her feet and fired at it. The beast roared again, bringing up an arm to shield its eyes. 

Occlus darted between its legs, slicing with his dual saber. 

“Over here!” Hrafnhar shouted as the savrip leapt up onto a large pipe. Kat bolted for a control panel on the pipe and a moment later flames burst from the top. The savrip roared and beat its chest before leaping down, knocking Hrafnhar off her feet as the platform bounced. She fired at the savrip and hit the platform heavily. Heat rose from the lava pit below, reminding her of the consequences if she fell. Her head swam, suited for colder climes. She was going to pass out. 

_Fuck that_ , thought Hrafnhar. She headed for the middle of the platform where she was less likely to get thrown all the way off and into the lava below. 

Occlus slashed at the savrip’s ankles and brought it to the ground where Hrafnhar filled its head with lasers. She looked past the corpse to the other half of the lab, just waiting for them to reconnect the light bridge. 

She hated light bridges. 

“Is it just me or was he just seeing what he could stick the rakghoul virus in.” Hrafnhar kicked the savrip’s corpse. 

“I’m more concerned with the amount of success he had,” Occlus admitted. “Jumping from human to savrip is a lot more difficult than jumping from human to chiss, for example.” 

“I feel _so_ much better,” Hrafnhar snarled. She reached up to the bite mark under her jacket. 

“I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine.” She dropped the hand away. “Let’s go kill this son of a bitch.” She stomped over and sliced the console to activate the light bridge and hurried across it, Occlus sprinting after her. 

A hail of blaster fire streamed through the air at them, deflected before finding their marks by Occlus’s spinning dualsaber. The infected holding the assault cannons slumped over dead. Hrafnhar shot them just to be sure. “I’m not wild about his ability to control these guys.” 

Occlus nodded. “I’m not wild about any of this if we’re being honest.” 

Their surroundings were cleaner. The air-freshening units still worked. The lights were all on. 

It looked a whole lot like Lorrick had sacrificed the lower lab to buy time. Hrafnhar wasn’t comfortable with the list of things he might be buying time _for_. 

“The modified virus is ready for field testing in the Tion Hegemony,” Lorrick said from a speaker as Occlus found another of his lab recordings. “The first few worlds will be wiped out. Their populations will be rakghouls under my cont—”

“Rewind it,” Hrafnhar snapped. 

Occlus rewound the recording. 

“—modified virus is ready for field testing in the Tion Hegemony. The first few worlds will be wiped out. Their populations will be rakghouls under my control, swelling the ranks of my armies. With the Hegemony secured—” 

Hrafnhar closed her eyes. She’d taken the vaccine because she wasn’t an idiot and Chiss were genetically similar to humans but oh _fuck_. Fuck. Fuck what if she was a monster? What if she got home and she turned? What if she ate Mako? 

“Hrafnhar?” 

“I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. “Think you can get the rakghoul virus from a suppository?” 

“Uh… why?” 

She shrugged and offered the Darth a cruel smile. “Just wondering. For _posterity._ ” 

“... was that a fucking pun?” 

“Not a good one, but you saw where I was going with it and that’s what counts. This guy is a fucking tool though.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Occlus started down a brightly light corridor. “Tools have _uses_.” 

More sterile rooms, more contained specimens. Hrafnhar stuck close to the Darth, forced to rely on his dualsaber to deal with ranged attackers but at an advantage for dealing with things from a distance. And they _needed_ distance. Knowing the vaccine had jumped the species barrier was going to seep into Hrafnhar’s nightmares. 

Probably, if she was going to turn, she would have turned already. 

But she didn’t _know_. He could have fucked with how long the transformationtook to plant sleeper agents or something equally fucked up. 

She didn’t know and that scared her. 

Hrafnhar wasn’t _good_ at being scared. 

Occlus found a fifth recording and, boy, did Doctor Lorrick like to hear himself talk. “The success has led me to re-evaluate the virus. I understand now that it is neither a disease nor a weapon. The exposed become bigger, faster, evolution perfected; it must spread across the entire galaxy.” 

“It must spread across the galaxy,” Hrafnhar mocked in a high falsetto. “ _Fuck_ why is every intellectual shitwaffle a complete waste of nitrogen?” 

“There are definitely better uses for his nitrogen.” 

“If you’re thinking about starting a rose garden I have a great tip for you. Put that body to work.” 

Occlus studied her for a moment. “I’m surprised you know anything about gardening.” 

“Girl’s gotta have a couple glaring inconsistencies,” Hrafnhar shrugged. “Husband mentioned it once when we were figuring out what to do with a gundark corpse.” 

Occlus chuckled. “Yeah that’s… much more on brand.” 

“You don’t know shit for dick about my _brand_ , my lord.” 

He shrugged. “Lewd, crude and socially unacceptable?” 

She smiled a little. “Okay, maybe you know shit or dick about it.”

“Well,” Occlus shrugged and gave her a lopsided smile. “I do know dick.” 

The temperature started to drop and Occlus shivered once and then probably did something with the Force to keep from shivering again. Because being able to levitate, mind control and hurl things with your thoughts wasn’t creepy and over-powered enough. 

At least Occlus was better than any other Force user she’d had the misfortune to deal with. He was almost a _person_. He made shitty jokes, he didn’t monologue, he rolled his eyes at her insubordination instead of throttling her with spooky powers. 

She almost liked him. Which she was not a fan of. 

“Why the shit are the walls icing over?” Hrafnhar asked. She gestured to the incriminating frost. 

Occlus shrugged. “I don’t know. Aren’t we right above a lava pit?” 

Hrafnhar sighed. “Whoever is funding this guy is paying out the _nose_ for air-conditioning and they’re getting fleeced.” 

“It could be bleed over from a cold room, trying to keep the samples stable.” 

“There’s nothing _stable_ about any of this.” Hrafnhar cracked her neck. “But I would take it as a person kindness if we trashed whatever samples he’s got. Break them open, fuck with the temperature, urinate on them, I’m not picky.” 

“As it happens, I agree with you.” 

They poked around, opening doors blasters first, until they found what looked like a pretty standard science lab. Hrafnhar and Occlus made quick work of trashing it, Hrafnhar peppering samples with laser bolts while Occlus used his spooky Force powers to electocute and smash the machines. 

Nobody urinated on anything, though Hrafnhar did think about it. 

They headed through the frosty corridor. Occlus found another recording and slaughtered a small collection of rakghoul-infected to get to it. 

“Dr. Lorrick has gone completely mad,” said a different scientist. “We realize now he was never working on a cure for the virus. His work is an abomination; we have to stop him.” 

“What are the odds of that having worked?” asked Hrafnhar. “Asking for a friend.” 

“—we will try to take him into custody. I fear he may oppose us with violence but—”

“Yeah,” Occlus said dryly. “I don’t think we’re that lucky.”

“So he’s probably dead.” 

“Probably.” 

“Sucks to be him then.” 

They continued on until they came to a heavy blast door. Hrafnhar bent down to the access panel and sliced it so the doors rocketed open. 

“Butchers!” shouted Doctor Lorrick as she straightened and drew both blasters to follow Occlus into the room. “Trespassers! How dare you come into my lab and slaughter my children!” 

What was it with crazed scientists calling their fucked up creations their ‘children’? 

Hrafnhar pointed her blaster at him. “The only family resemblance I see is the drool.” 

“Is there _any_ chance you intend do come quietly?” Occlus asked, holding his dualsaber to the side. 

Lorrick looked from him to Hrafnhar and sneered. “I wonder how long until you betray your Imperial Masters?” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “Probably not while they’re standing here, honestly.” _Masters_. She didn’t have _masters_. She had _clients_. 

But she really didn’t need to argue the minutia with Doctor Rakghoul-Plague. 

Lorrick ranted for a moment about having the same problem with his assistants, the once who had tried to stop him. Hrafnhar did a visual sweep of the wide room they were in. A couple of kolto tanks no doubt held unpleasant surprises, but they could handle them after they’d dealt with Lorrick. 

“Ain’t you a peach to work for?” Hrafnhar asked, walking deeper into the room and waiting for something to jump her. He didn’t appear to have any guards but… 

He’d known they were coming. 

He must have prepared something. 

“—that power can be yours. Let me inject you with the virus—”

“Hard no,” Hrafnhar said, snapping her attention back to the doctor. 

“You first,” snapped Occlus. 

Lorrick smiled. “I was simply stalling for time I injected myself—” 

Hrafnhar pointed her blaster and shot Lorrick in the face. He teetered to the side, crashing into his desk and pulling a pile of datapads and test tubes with him. 

Hrafnhar exhaled. 

Lorrick roared. He burst upwards, sending the desk clattering across the room. Hrafnhar fired at him but Lorrick just brought up an arm to block his eyes as sickly blue-grey spines ripped from his skin. He thrashed and bellowed, “Gaze upon the pinnacle of evolution with awe and terror! Weep for what you will never become.” 

“Hold him off,” Hrafnhar shouted at Occlus. “The kolto tanks!” 

She darted across the room as Occlus leapt to get Lorrick’s attention. Dropping hard to kneeling, Hrafnhar tore at the access panel to the kolto tank to start to sabotage it. Behind her, glass shattered. She grabbed her blaster and twisted around, firing into the face of an infected wearing a medical coat. 

One of Lorrick’s assistants.

Hrafnhar gave him a face full of laser and tripped him to keep to keep from being grappled. She fired into his head until it was a gooey mass of brain and skull fragments and got her bearings. Occlus had lured Lorrick to the middle of the room and was holding off his assault. Hrafnhar launched a rocket at the Doctor, earning a high, pained snarl. 

“How many more of those have you got?” Occlus shouted, carving through Lorrick’s left arm. The Doctor backhanded him, sending him sliding across the floor. 

Hrafnhar didn’t answer, but she did launch her full contingent of rockets at Lorrick. 

When the dust cleared, the body was gone. 

Hrafnhar, tightened her grip on her blasters and waited. 

There was a quiet thud behind her and she turned, firing into Lorrick as he appeared. With his ruined left arm he caught her in the jaw and sent her spinning. 

Occlus leapt over her with lightning flying from his fingers. 

“Tear the fucker in half!” Hrafnhar shouted, pushing herself to her feet. 

Occlus dropped his dualsaber and made a motion like he was grabbing taffy and pulling it apart. Lorrick screamed as he began to stretch. With a gruesome tearing noise, Occlus ripped both of Lorrick’s arms off. 

Hrafnhar shuddered uncomfortably. She’d never seen a Sith lord pull off something that gory. 

One more reason the Force was horrifying. 

Hrafnhar fired a missile at Lorrick’s neck and took his head clean off. She exhaled and shook her head. 

“Let me trash his findings and we can go,” Occlus said, like he hadn’t just torn a motherfucker in half. 

Hrafnhar nodded and turned her attention to sabotaging the other kolto tanks. She trusted that Occlus meant it when he said he was going to trash Lorrick’s findings. She disconnected the kolto tanks and made sure from the vital readings that the things inside were dead. 

“This is Darth Occlus,” Occlus said into his comm. “We need a pick up. Lorrick has been dealt with.” 

“I need a three day observation period,” Hrafnhar said, coming up behind him. “I got bit on Kaon and what we learned here is… fucked up.” 

Occlus looked at her and his mouth tugged down into a very small frown. “That’s a good idea for both of us. Prepare two holding cells aboard the _Ziost Shadow_. I’ll speak with Darth Nurin and then be placed under observation.” 

* * *

No one took any of Hrafnhar’s things when they locked her in one of the cells on the _Ziost Shadow_. She slumped over onto the thin mattress in the corner and produced her comm. 

“Hey,” Mako said warmly as the ship answered. “You ready for us to come pick you up?” 

Hrafnhar shook her head. “Nah, I’ve gotta sit tight for a couple of days on a _observation_ period.” 

“What, why?” 

“The target was modifying the rakghoul virus and the Imps want to be sure there’s nothing fucky going on. It’s just a couple of days.” 

Mako frowned. “Alright. You wanna talk to Gault and Torian?” 

Hrafnhar nodded. She looked away from her comm at movement in the hallway and watched Occlus as he was escorted to the cell beside hers. Her attention flitted back to the comm as it flickered and Gault appeared. 

“Hey flatcake,” Gault said. “Mako says you’re extending your stay.” 

“Only by a couple of days, babe,” Hrafnhar answered. “Don’t give me any details because there are other people in vicinity, but you having fun?” 

“Buckets of it. Or I would if Torian could be convinced to switch gears for a minute. I’m gridlocked until you get back.” 

“I’ll have a talk with him,” Hrafnhar said, pretty sure that no amount of ‘having a talk with’ Torian was going to get him to pitch in on any of Gault’s schemes. Though at least Torian seemed a little more accepting when it was Gault _and_ _Hrafnhar’s_ scheme. 

True love was like that. 

“He around?” 

“I think he’s _polishing his weapons_.” Gault said dryly. 

“It’s Torian so he’s probably just polishing his weapons,” Hrafnhar mused. “With you just being terrible to me because you’re annoyed I won’t be home for a few days.” 

“You know me so well. Let me send Mako to find him.” 

Gault disappeared, heading off to shout for Mako because he would never degrade himself by finding Torian _himself_ outside of an emergency. 

“Riddur,” Torian said, appearing on the holo. << Mako says it’ll be another three days? >>

Hrafnhar sighed and gave him a brittle smile. << I got bit, love. I’m staying under observation to make sure I don’t turn. >>

<< You got bit? >> Torian asked, worry seeping into the words. << How? >>

<< Got rushed by a horde and couldn’t get airborne fast enough. >> She cleared her throat. << I’ll call you tomorrow but if I don’t… look. I just need to you know how much I love you. >>

<< I love you too, >> Torian promised. << I’ll see you in three days. We’re going to be fine. >>

He was so steady. She smiled. << I’m gonna get some sleep. Talk to you tomorrow. >>

She tucked her communicator away. 

“So,” Occlus said from the other cell. “Why did you lie to your crew?” 

Hrafnhar tilted her head back against the cell wall. “Because they’d worry otherwise and worrying won’t make the time pass any faster. What’d you tell Andronikos?” 

“That I was voluntarily remaining under observation.” There was a bounce of spring as he settled on his mattress in the other cell. “He doesn’t like it, but there’s nothing he can do about it.” 

“Why _are_ you remaining under observation?” 

There was a long, quiet moment before Occlus said. “I thought it would get lonely for you otherwise. This way you have someone to talk to.” 

The laugh started in Hrafnhar’s stomach and spread up through her lungs to burst out of her mouth. “Really?” 

Occlus made a small, offended noise. 

“No, listen, I’m not laughing _at_ you. I’m laughing because that’s sweet and I didn’t think Dark Councilors were allowed to do sweet.” 

“Technically I’m _allowed_ to do more or less whatever I want,” Occlus answered. “As long as it doesn’t undermine any of the other councillors.” 

“So the Sith dick-stomping doesn’t translate to the highest level of government?” 

“Oh it does,” Occlus answered. “It’s just not _supposed_ to.” 

Hrafnhar looked up at the ceiling. She couldn’t exactly rub one out and go to sleep in a brig cell, much less with a Dark Councilor in the next cell over. What she could do was talk. “So, you like what you do?” 

Occlus was quiet. “It’s… an honor to serve the Empire.” 

She knew banthashit when she heard it. 

“What about you?” 

“I love it.” Hrafnhar said honestly. “Traveling the galaxy, finding people, killing people, hunting. It’s good.” 

“Bounty Hunting always seemed glamorous to me.” 

“I don’t know about that. It’s dirty work and there’s not a lot of room for moralizing. Friend of mine hates that part but she’s the best in the business at what she does.” 

“Your husband hunt?” 

“Yeah.” Hrafnhar smiled as she thought of Torian. “He’s my rock and one of the only people I think might be a better shot than I am. At least with a rifle. I’ve never seen him with a pistol.”

Maybe she would turn range time into a date night when she was back in Torian’s arms. 

“Sounds like you really love him.” 

“Wouldn’t have married him otherwise,” Hrafnhar shrugged. “I’m gonna turn in, I think. I’ve got a big day of doing nothing or turning into a rakghoul tomorrow.” 

* * *

Hrafnhar nodded to Occlus as they were let out of the cells a few days later. She headed immediately for Vaiken Space Dock and settled in the cantina to have a drink while she waited for Mako to dock _The Varactyl’s Nipples_. Her whole experience had been harrowing, but it was over now, just another hunt. 

“Riddur,” Torian called to her and Hrafnhar set her drink down and jogged over to wrap her arms around his neck. 

She kissed him once. “I need a shower.” 

“That can be arranged.” His hand found hers, fingers lacing around hers. “Mako’s resupplying and Gault is…”

“Working?” Hrafnhar volunteered. 

“A disgrace,” Torian finished. He squeezed her hand in his. “Let’s go home.” 

They left the cantina and headed for the hangar where _The Varactyl’s Nipples_ was sitting in all it’s hideous glory. Torian followed her into the fresher and pinned her against the wall for kisses beneath the spray, his thumb careful of the bite mark on her bicep.

“I missed you,” she said as she pulled on clean clothes and considered incinerating the Imperial uniform she’d been stuck in. “Also I’ll keep the uniform if you want to have sex in it, but otherwise I’m trashing it.” 

She was home. And at the end of the day that was what mattered.


	21. It's Not Like I Like You Or Anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar turns down a ridiculous sum of money and ends up on an exploding planet.

> Blood dribbled down Hrafnhar’s neck to coat her chest. Her smile was too wide, too sharp. It hurt to hold onto. She looked down at the carcass at her feet. Sharp claws had opened the woman’s belly, spilling blood and bile onto the peaty soil from where Hrafnhar had raked along her stomach. Her neck was torn open. Something about the sight or scent was thrilling, pleasing in a dark and satisfying manner.
> 
> Mako. 
> 
> _Mako_. 

Hrafnhar bolted out of the bed, one hand over her mouth like she was going to vomit. Strong arms clamped down around her. Lips touched the point of her shoulder. 

<< It was a nightmare, Riddur. Mako is fine. >>

Hrafnhar twisted in Torian’s arms and pressed her forehead to his shoulder. In the privacy of her bedroom, she shuddered. 

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” 

* * *

She was learning to sleep through the nightmares, and with distance came clarity. She wasn’t going to suddenly go rakghoul. She wasn’t going to kill Mako or Gault or Torian or Blizz. It was all in her head.

And in the waking hours, there was work.

Hrafnhar was always wary of clients who wanted to meet ‘in person’ and privately. If they weren’t going through the BBA there was already a good chance it was a less than legit contract. If they didn’t want to be seen in the same place as Hrafnhar, it meant that it was less than legit and _big_. 

But those tended to be some of the most lucrative contracts so she went, taking Torian along for backup. They landed on Taris and drove out into the jungle.

<< Reminds me of how we met. >> Torian said, leaning forward to kiss her neck. 

<< Maybe this time we'll have fewer rakghouls. >>

The bite on her arm had healed and scarred, a monument to the near-mauling. 

Hrafnhar frowned as they neared the meeting location. This level of paranoia meant either the target was someone _important_ or the client was paranoid. Or both. 

<< I don’t like this, Cyar’ika, >> Torian said as they pulled up to the small bunker indicated in the message. 

<< We’ll see what he’s offering. Just watch my back. >>

<< Always am. >>

She smiled at him and headed inside after the lone guard outside confirmed her identity.. The little bunker lights were sickly orange, flickering over head. She kept a count of the number of guards. Two, Four, Six, another door. 

Stepping into the room she cocked an eyebrow at the seated Grand Moff in his uniform. “Ms. Hrafnhar,” he said, “and escort. Please, have a seat.” He gestured to a seat across from him and Hrafnhar dropped into it. “Thank you for meeting with me. I’m contracting you on a matter of public security.” 

Hrafnhar waited silently for him to get to the point. 

“I understand you’ve worked with Darth Occlus a number of times, is that correct?” 

“He’s contracted me a couple of times, yeah.” Hrafnhar kept her eyes on the Grand Moff’s face. There were two guards in the room with them and six out in the hallway. Something about this wasn’t on the level. 

“I want you to kill him.” 

Hrafnhar raised an eyebrow. “That why we’re meeting in the middle of nowhere?” 

“One does not plot a coup in broad daylight.” 

She wondered who was pulling his strings. Probably another member of the Council. 

“I charge extra to go after Sith. And he’s one hell of a sith.” 

“Money is not an obstacle,” said the Grand Moff. “I’m a powerful man, my friendship, on top of your wages, would be _invaluable_.” 

Hrafnhar nodded, mostly to herself. She loved it when people said money was no obstacle, because it let her charge extravagantly. She probably _could_ kill Occlus, as long as he didn’t see her coming first. He was a nice guy, trusting. Vulnerable. 

Hrafnhar looked back at the Moff. She stretched back in her chair and had her blaster in her hand a moment later. She fired once, opening the Moff’s surprised face like a melon and turning the blaster onto the two stunned guards, popping one as Torian popped the other. 

“Riddur?” 

“I’m fine,” Hrafnhar said, looking at the trio of corpses. “Didn’t like his offer.” 

She waited for Torian to say that he hadn’t _made_ an offer, but Torian just gave her a serious and understanding nod. 

“There are six of them between us and the way out,” Hrafnhar said. “Stick close, cyare.”

Torian kissed her temple before she pulled the door open. They had the upper hand and the element of surprise and before long they were back on the speeder headed for the garrison and the shuttle that would take them back to the orbital station. 

<< Are you going to tell Darth Occlus that he has enemies? >>

<< No, >> Hrafnhar said. << I’m going to _drink_. >>

<< I like him too, Cyar’ika. You did the right thing. >>

<< I just turned down ‘money is no obstacle’ money, >> Hrafnhar lamented. << Gault will make _fun_ of me. And you do not like him you have pointedly never met him. >>

<< He keeps bringing you home. I like him. >>

Hrafnhar almost blushed. << _I_ bring me home, Riddur. Darth Small-Fry has nothing to do with it. >>

They returned to the ship and Hrafnhar dug out a bottle of tihaar out of a drawer. She slumped into her seat in the cockpit and started to drink away the memory of turning down ‘money is not an obstacle’ money over a tiny sarcastic Sith lord. 

She didn’t even _like_ the Sith!

She charged extra when a Sith wanted to hire her because they were walking monologue machines who choked you at the first hint of disrespect. 

Occlus was… different. He didn’t take himself too seriously and he was actually pretty funny. 

But it had been ‘money is not an obstacle’ money and they weren’t even friends. 

“Day drinking already, I see,” Gault said from the doorway behind her. 

“Care to join me?” 

Gault plucked the bottle from her fingers and settled in the co-pilot’s seat. “Tihaar even, did you and your boy have an argument?” 

“No,” Hrafnhar shook her head. “I regret to say he remains _wonderful_.” 

Gault took a small sip and handed the bottle back. “Do I wanna know what happened?” 

“No.” 

“Then I won’t ask,” Gault promised. He took the bottle as she handed it back. Gault was fond of wines, though Hrafnhar suspected Gault had grown familiar with Tihaar seeing as he’d mostly stopped complaining about it. 

* * *

“Hrafnhar Lok.” An imperial woman spoke over the holo. She had her hands folded stiffly behind her. “I have a message for you from Darth Occlus. He wants to hire you as muscle on the planet Makeb.” 

“Where’s Andronikos?” Hrafnhar asked, folding her arms over her chest. 

“The pirate is handling work on ground level with his lordship.” 

“Uh-huh,” Hrafnhar narrowed her eyes. “What does _his lordship_ want?” 

“That’s classified. Meet us—”

“Doesn’t sound like Occlus.” Hrafnhar pushed the button to hang up and turned away from holoterminal. She stretched to the side. She was getting dragged into Sith politics and if they were anything like Chiss politics that was a dangerous place to be. Occlus’s enemies were trying to lure her into a trap. Luckily for _her_ , they were bad at it. 

And worst case she’d hung up on the fluffiest Sith lord in the galaxy. She wasn’t losing any sleep over that.

It was a little after dinner that Mako looked up from her plate. “Call coming in.” 

“I’ll get it,” Hrafnhar offered. “Nobody get up unless you’re grabbing me another beer.” She kissed Torian’s head and headed up the steps to answer the holocall. 

“Hrafnhar?” It was Occlus himself. 

“Seems like I’m all kinds of popular today,” Hrafnhar said. “What’d you want?” 

“I need backup on Makeb,” Occlus said. She appreciated the directness, which was one of the reasons she didn’t mind working with Occlus. He was usually pretty direct. “The Hutts are trying to blow up the planet.” 

“Huh.” Hrafnhar blinked. “That bitch you’ve got working the comms is very Imperial standard so I didn’t think your offer was serious.” 

“Yeah, I can see that.”

Hrafnhar’s posture relaxed lazily. “So why is the planet exploding?” 

“I can’t discuss it over an open channel. I shouldn’t even have mentioned it. But I need your help and every gun you can spare. The Hutts have a private army.” 

Hrafnhar considered, and made a great show of it. Could she risk Gault and Torian on what she knew of Occlus’s temperament? 

“My crew charges separately,” she said. “But I’ve got two skilled gun-hands.” 

“It’s worth it. I’ll hire all three of you.” 

“Let me confirm with my people and I will call you the fuck back.” She turned off the holocall when Occlus nodded. She turned around and walked to the balcony, looking down over the little dining space beside the galley. “So, Makeb’s going to blow up.” 

Gault clicked his tongue with annoyance. “I kept planning to take you to the Cloudside Resorts. They love me and we could pick up another honeymoon special for us and the kids.” 

“We’re not _kids_ ,” Mako scoffed. 

“Torian’s older than you and he’s what? Twenty-some?” Gault challenged. 

Hrafnhar snorted. “He’s the same age I am.” 

“Chiss mature by age ten,” Gault said placidly. “You’ve been an adult longer than he has.” 

“Child or not, I could knock your teeth down your throat,” Torian said evenly. 

“Nobody’s knocking any teeth out, and no one’s implying Torian’s my fucking kid, because that’s gross.” Hrafnhar leaned over the railing. “No, Darth Cred-Stick is offering to hire the three of us to watch his back on the exploding planet.” 

“There are four of us,” Mako protested. 

Hrafnhar wasn’t risking Mako. 

“No,” she said flatly. “I need you here in case someone tries to stab us in the back. I want you to slice into the Imperial’s communications and alert me if anything looks fucking fishy.” 

Mako scowled at her for a moment and then rolled her eyes and nodded. “Are you paying the boys extra?” 

“You’re splitting a paycheck with me,” Hrafnhar said, valuing Mako’s cooperation more than the credits and deeply uncomfortable with that revelation. “But we can’t let the Imps know.” 

<< You think the Grand Moff had allies? >> said Torian, switching to Mando’a to keep from cluing Mako or Gault in on Hrafnhar’s moral decision to not take excessively well-paying work. 

<< Yeah, >> Hrafnhar replied. << Occlus is a reliable meal-ticket. >>

Mako groaned. “You _guys_. Speak Basic.” 

“You really don’t want to hear half the things I say to him.” 

“If it’s anything like the nonsense you say to him in basic I think I’ll survive.” Mako folded her arms over her chest. 

“I personally assume it’s baby-talk,” Gault said, pushing his empty plate away from him. “If it were just about fucking, Hrafnhar wouldn’t care who heard her.” Gault flashed a smile up at the balcony. “Probably gets off on it.” 

Hrafnhar shifted her weight. Gault was _more_ correct in any case. It was easier to be sweet when no one else could understand. Worse, Mando’a was easier than Cheunh because she’d learned it from someone she treasured. Mando’a was a blistering casual language and _on top_ of that, Torian was more comfortable with it than he was with Basic. 

She’d thought about returning the favor and teaching Torian Cheunh, but she had her own baggage with the language and it was more stilted when she tried to use it for dirty talk. Torian didn’t have the cultural background for a lot of the really filthy things she wanted to say to come through. 

“So are you guys in?” Hrafnhar asked. 

Torian nodded. 

Gault took a long drink from his beer. “Who am I to deny men who want to give me money? Particularly if it’s serious enough that Hrafnhar is going to _split_ her share of the fare with Mako.” 

“Maybe I just like Mako more than I like you,” Hrafnhar teased. 

“You’d never admit it if that were the case,” Gault pointed out. Correctly, in fact. 

Though her feelings about Mako were more complicated that simply liking her more or less than she liked Gault. Hrafnhar _liked_ Gault more than she liked anyone else. She didn’t love him more than she loved Torian. And Mako was… complicated. Mako was her little sister, whether either of them liked it or not. Mako had been with her since the beginning of the Great Hunt. And the Great Hunt had been what catapulted Hrafnhar to glory and all these other good things. 

She turned back around and flicked on the holoterminal, calling the last number and giving Occlus a cocky grin when he answered. “We’re in. I’ll send you the rates in a minute, send _me_ the coordinates where I’m supposed to be meeting you.” 

“Excellent!” Occlus gave her a faint smile. “I will do so immediately.”

She ended the call and sent over individual rates for Torian and Gault before subtracting the Sith surcharge from her rates and adding in a little extra for having to go to an exploding planet. When half of the money had transferred she walked to the cockpit and plugged in the coordinates he’d sent. 

* * *

Makeb was a hard planet to land on, but people were ingenious when it came to making profit and the surface was dotted with gravity hooks that people could attach to to load and unload cargo and passengers. Occlus had, apparently, secured one of the gravity hooks for the Empire’s use and she didn’t really care about the details of how that had gone down. Hrafnhar docked with gravity hook seven fully kitted out. Gault and Torian flanked her as they entered the command center. 

“Where’s Occlus?” Hrafnhar asked, her arms over her chest. 

“Good,” said the Imperial woman who had first contacted her. “You’re here.”

Hrafnhar narrowed her eyes at the woman. 

“I’m Katha Niar, I run the support team. This is Lord Cytharat, Darth Occlus’s tactical advisor. His Lordship should be returning any time now.” 

“We’ll just make ourselves comfortable in the meantime?” 

“I would prefer to brief you on our situation,” Niar said stiffly. 

Hrafnhar shook her head and leaned against one of the boxes of munitions. “Pass, I’ll just let Occlus explain.” 

“His Lordship has more important duties than _briefing_ you.” 

“Which is why he’ll make it fast instead of waxing poetic about duty to the Empire or whatever prepared bit you have for me.” 

“Would it kill you to cooperate?” Occlus asked as he entered the room. “We’re all on the same side here.” 

_That you know of_ , thought Hrafnhar uncharitably. “Just because something won’t kill you doesn’t mean you should do it.” She shrugged. “This is Gault and Torian, our backup. What’s going on?” 

“Charmed,” Gault said personably. 

Torian just nodded. 

“The Empire’s losing the war,” Occlus said candidly, nodding to Gault and giving a slower, more considerate nod to Torian. Hrafnhar smirked a little. Any attempt Occlus made to chat Torian up would meet with disappointment, but Hrafnhar liked knowing that she had the best thing. 

And she had the best thing. Look at him, standing there being accidentally hot and intimidating. 

Occlus turned his attention back to her. “We’ve been tasked with securing something called isotope-5 for Darth Marr. The Hutts were mining it and their operation has made it so there won’t be a Makeb in a couple of weeks. So we’ve gotta work fast.” 

“Alright,” Hrafnhar let her arms fall to her sides. “What’s our first step?” 

Occlus directed her eyes to Katha Niar with his chin. Hrafnhar sighed and looked to Niar. 

“My lord,” Niar ignored Hrafnhar’s petulance. “We‘re guessing a few hours before the fighting settles. That’s our window to break into Stronghold One and steal the isotope-5. The Regulators, that’s the mercenary force the Hutts bought out, have numbers around it.”

“Stronghold One?” Hrafnhar asked, looking at Occlus. 

“Mostly impenetrable vault tucked into a volcano.” He shrugged. 

“Good times then.” This explained why he hadn’t chuffed at the thought of hiring two extra guys. They were going to need all the muscle and brains they could get. She’d call Mako when she had a minute to herself and see if she could get fed into the Mercenaries’ comms. 

But after what happened with Tormen, she couldn’t risk Occlus finding out about Mako or figuring out that she and Torian were married. Gault was old and crafty, in the best position for protecting himself and willing to roll over and sell her out if that was what had to happen. She didn’t _like_ the idea that Gault would (under duress) sell her out, but it was one less thing she had to worry about. 

Occlus had been a different kind of Sith lord since initially hiring her on Ilum, but he was still a Sith lord. 

She shrugged her shoulders. “If I’m going to go spelunking in a volcano I want a fucking fresher break first.” She raised an eyebrow at Niar and Cytharat. “Where’s the shitter?” 

Occlus made a choking sound that could have been mortification or strangled laughter. 

Cytharat raised his brow, mild affront on his features. Niar, however, sighed and shook her head. “Facilities are on the other side of the command center. We don’t have time to wait for you.” 

“I can catch up,” Hrafnhar said, already heading off. 

She waited until she was in the empty fresher to call Mako, voice only. “Hey kid.” 

“Finally decided you need me?” 

“Mako, I always _need_ you, you’re the spongy cream filling to my delicious cake. Right _now_ though, I need you tapped into the Regulator’s comms.” 

Mako groaned. “Makeb’s atmospherics make _anything_ orbit to surface really patchy. But I’ll see what I can do. Might have to move the ship.” 

“Try to avoid that. You’re still my ace in the hole.” 

“Aw. You’re sweet when you’re lying.” 

“Just comm me when you’re in and keep me updated.” 

“Alright.” She could just picture the way Mako shrugged with her whole body when she felt like Hrafnhar was being unreasonable but accepted it. There was a treacherous glimmer of warmth at the thought. She wasn’t going to let Mako end up a pawn in some Sith’s power games and she didn’t care if Mako felt that was unreasonable. 

Hrafnhar washed her hands and headed back out to the command center. She offered a jaunty smile to Occlus, Torian and Gault standing near at hand and doing their best to ignore one another as had become status quo when they didn’t have something specific to bicker about. “So. We’re gonna go fuck around in a volcano.” 

“Well we’re going to cause a groundquake first,” Occlus said, giving her a smaller but still genuine smile. “But, yes.” 

The four of them took the lift down to the loading ring. Hrafnhar got her first glimpse of Makeb as it stretched beneath and beyond her. Mesas covered in soft blue grasses held up on spindly stone stalks. Fragile and impermanent, which was a weird way to feel about dirt. 

“Whew!” Torian shouted as he came up alongside her, looking for once like he was only twenty-two. “Shoulda brought my rifle.” 

Hrafnhar flashed him an adoring look she couldn’t act on and elbowed him in the ribs. “You _should_ have brought your rifle.” 

“I’m the better shot anyhow,” said Gault. “And he likes being in the thick of things, don’tcha Sport.” 

<< Don’t hit him, >> Hrafnhar said, intervening before Torian could move. << I swear I will make it up to you. >>

Torian let his shoulders relax. << You always do. >>

The four of them clambered into a shuttle that would take them to a landing zone near Stronghold One. 

“So how much resistance are we looking at?” Hrafnhar asked.

Occlus carded a hand through his hair. “Probably very little while we plant the bombs for the groundquake, more when we invade their shelter so we can trigger the groundquake without… dying.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and tugged on the small braid at his ear. “I’m not sure about Stronghold One… probably a lot.” 

“Good,” Hrafnhar leaned back in her chair. “At least it won’t be boring.” 

Gault sighed. “You’re an insane and wicked woman, babycakes.” 

“That reminds me,” she looked at Occlus. “If I die, give my money to Gault.” She gestured to Gault with her thumb. “Getting me killed doesn’t get you out of forking the money over.” 

Occlus looked from Hrafnhar to Gault and smiled gently. “Of course.” 

Hrafnhar wasn’t sure what to make of the _look_ Occlus was giving them, but it didn’t strike her as the sort of thing she needed to worried about at that moment. 

“How many charges do we need to plant and where are we planting them?” 

Occlus pulled up a map and pointed to the locations. “Three bombs, here, here, and here.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. “If we split up we can hit the first two separately and rendezvous at the third. Gault can go with you. That way, we’re an even split between mostly melee and ranged.” She looked at Gault for confirmation and he gave her a lazy nod. She looked at Occlus. “You break him, you bought him, right?” 

“I’ll take good care of your people,” Occlus said. “Don’t worry.” 

Hrafnhar shrugged like she didn’t care. Mostly, she trusted that Gault could charm Occlus enough to keep himself safe. Gault was _unrealistically_ charming. It was how he’d gotten by as a con-man. How he _still_ got by as a con-man. 

Just about the only person who didn’t like Gault was Torian. And that was just because Torian had unreasonably good instincts. 

The shuttle landed and they walked together to the mouth of the volcanic cavern. Heat billowed from the cave mouth, stinking of brimstone. Hrafnhar produced both of her blasters and followed Torian in, covering his advance. 

The exoboars were aggressive but that was, honestly kind of fun. When they reached the spot where they were supposed to plant the bomb, Hrafnhar leaned against Torian briefly. 

<< Too hot? >> he asked. 

Hrafnhar nodded. 

Torian unscrewed the top of his canteen and, using his hand to block her forehead so the water didn’t run into her eyes, poured the water over her hair. 

<< You’re sweet, >> she said, the water already evaporating and leaving her cooler. 

<< It’d be embarrassing if you passed out, >> Torian countered, giving her a kiss. << Come on, we’re supposed to meet Occlus at the third bomb point. >>

They headed for the meeting point and arrived as Occlus and Gault were priming the third explosion. 

“There you are,” Gault said, giving Hrafnhar a nod. “I was starting to worry something had eaten you.” 

“Nah,” Hrafnhar shrugged. “I’d give an exoboar indigestion.” 

Occlus activated his comm and Katha Niar saluted as she came into view. “The last of the charges are in place,” Occlus said. “Support team, confirm.” 

“Confirming,” said Niar. “We’ll get a major groundquake when those go off. Recommend you find shelter before detonation. The mercenaries’ landing pad isn’t far—should be sturdy enough not to collapse.” 

“How is everything else proceeding?” 

“The Hutts and the mercenaries are still busy with the revolt. Lord Cytharat and his strike team are on a mesa three kilometers north.”

“Excellent.” Occlus nodded. “I’ll contact you later.” He tucked the comm back into a pocket and turned to the trio of hirees. “Are you ready?” 

“Beats standing around in this fucking hot house,” Hrafnhar said, _very_ dizzy and determined not to let the Sith lord know that high temperatures made her uncomfortable. 

Torian touched the small of her back with the tips of his fingers. 

“You’ll have to excuse them,” Gault said dryly. “Mandalorians are _handsy_.” 

Occlus smiled, looked Torian up and down, and then shrugged. “I don’t mind.” 

<< Better watch your ass, cyare. >> Hrafnhar teased. 

<< I think the Sith has that covered. >>

She snorted a laugh and looked over at Occlus, who mostly looked confused, and Gault who made a great show of rolling his eyes. 

They left the volcano and emerged onto a mesa. Hrafnhar took a pot shot at a Regulator while Occlus and Torian charged the group. Gault stepped up to her side and aimed his rifle. “So, our little Sith friend’s quite the interesting character.” 

“I like him more than I like the last one. Why, you working on something?” 

“The wheels are turning. Conning a Sith lord takes _finesse_.” 

“Be careful,” Hrafnhar instructed.

Gault paused thoughtfully and took a shot. “I always am. I would think you’d be a little more concerned with his _interest_ in Torian.” 

Hrafnhar snorted, jogging towards Occlus and Torian. “Torian can look after himself.” 

They joined up with Torian and Occlus as Occlus called Niar to update her on their status. 

“This is the ground team,” Occlus said. “Preparing to detonate charges.” He swallowed nervously and Hrafnhar’s attention sharpened. _What was he nervous about_? 

“Acknowledged.” 

Occlus’s hands shook as they pushed the button to detonate the charges in the volcanic cavern. The ground rocked beneath them.

“Shit!” swore Occlus. 

Hrafnhar flung out a hand and caught Gault’s, the pair of them compensating for one another’s failing balance. Torian hit the ground. 

And then the rocking stopped. Hrafnhar and Gault dropped hands and extended them to Torian and Occlus respectively. 

Occlus shook his head like he was clearing it. 

“Status report?” asked Katha Niar. She was flanked by a human and a nemoridian Hrafnhar didn’t recognize and didn’t care about. 

“We’re fine,” Occlus answered. 

<< Observing power fluctuations. Stronghold One’s first tier security protocols are nonfunctional, >> said the nemoridian. Hrafnhar was mostly just impressed that the Empire had a non-human, non-pureblood on hand. 

A sign of progress? 

Several hundred years too late. 

“There’s a general alarm going out,” said the human male. “But that’s standard for a groundquake of this magnitude.” 

Niar nodded. “And the stronghold won’t be getting reinforcements while the Hutts are putting down the revolt. You’re clear to go inside.” 

“What can you tell me about the interior?” asked Occlus. 

Hrafnhar stepped back a short ways and brought a hand to her ear. “Mako,” she said softly. 

“Yeah?” 

“Can you tap into Stronghold One’s security if I hook you into a console?” 

“Probably. Why are you whispering?” 

“Because I don’t want the Empire knowing about my ace. Just be ready.” Hrafnhar lowered her hand and rejoined the group. 

“Everything alright, baby?” asked Gault.

“Yeah, thought I dropped my cred-chit,” Hrafnhar lied. “It just got stuck in my pocket all awkwardly.” She looked at Occlus. “We ready to head in?” 

Occlus nodded. “Entrance is just over there.” 

Hrafnhar followed his pointing finger and headed towards the door. 


	22. The Droids We're Looking For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar and pals storm Stronghold One and get less than they bargained for

Hrafnhar, Torian, Gault and Occlus piled into the lift that would take them down to the first level of Stronghold One. The minute the lift opened, Hrafnhar and Gault fired at the Regulators, killing several before the rest could get their bearings, and by that point Torian and Occlus were already upon them. 

With four skilled death dealers, clearing the Regulators out went by quickly. 

They hurried along, Hrafnhar forced to keep pace rather than go through anyone’s pockets which she wasn’t _pleased about_ but could accept as reasonable.

“The Makeb government could take out a patent on vault security,” Gault said dryly. “How many layers do you think we’re dealing with? Four? Forty?” 

“We have the blueprints,” Occlus rebutted. “Two levels and then the vault.” 

They found the Security Office and Hrafnhar popped the nikto in charge in the head as he turned around to threaten or posture or _whatever_ it was Cartel thugs did in this sort of situation. She holstered her blaster and strolled into the office, headed for the console at the back so she could get Mako into the cameras and turrets and whatever else. She heard boots and turned her head so look out the door with her periphery, turning back to the console when it was just Cytharat. 

“Cytharat,” Occlus said with more warmth than she had expected. 

She turned around and watched Cytharat give a low bow. “My lord,” Cytharat said richly. “With your leave, we will hold position here. No one will pursue you. No one will close off your escape route.” 

Occlus nodded. “You… can just call me Occlus.” He shifted his weight a little. “I don’t mind and we’re in this together.” 

Hrafnhar bit down on a snort. Occlus had a _crush_. On his _subordinate_. 

“Say the word and I will be at your side.” 

What Occlus saw in serious, stuffy Cytharat Hrafnhar couldn’t begin to have guessed, but the smile that spread over her mouth was borderline cruel. 

“My lord,” interrupted one of Cytharat’s men. “I’ll start trying to access the security controls—maybe we can link them to the gravity hook.” 

Cytharat nodded. “Begin.” He looked back at Occlus, somehow looking down without looking down. “If we can bring Stronghold One under your control, perhaps it will be of use. We shall await your word.” 

Hrafnhar gestured to the console with her thumb. “It’s actually pretty easy to slice in. They might have goodies further down.” She headed down the ramp and touched Torian’s arm with her fingers before leaning against Gault. “Having fun, babe?” 

“Life’s never dull with you,” Gault said dryly. 

“We should hurry.” Occlus said. 

Hrafnhar nodded and followed him through the door they _hadn’t_ gone through, finding a lift and taking it down to the lower level.

“So,” Hrafnhar said conversationally. “A guy willing to literally die for your glory. That’s what does it for you?” 

Occlus’s cheeks darkened. “What! No! I don’t know what you’re—”

<< A guy willing to die for you does wonders for you, Riddur, >> Torian pointed out. 

Hrafnhar snorted. << Don’t call me out in front of the Sith lord, Cyare. >> She shrugged her shoulders. “Stammering is a _great_ way to convince me that you’re not full of shit, _my lord_.” 

Gault set a hand on her shoulder, squeezing once to remind her not to mouth off to the Sith lord. 

Occlus sighed. “Look it’s not… It’s not the willing to _die_ for me. It’s the _voice_.” 

Hrafnhar cocked an eyebrow as Gault’s hand dropped away. 

Occlus groaned. “He’s just… got a good voice.” 

Hrafnhar laughed. “This is a _party_ of good voices and you’re hooked on the guy who can’t piss himself unless it furthers the glory of the Empire?” 

“Hey!” 

Whatever she was going to say next was lost as the lift hit the next floor and she brought her blasters up, ready to deal with whatever waited on this level. 

“Heads up,” Mako said in her ear. “I’ve got cameras and there’s more resistance on the level you’re on. Also a… _really_ weird droid.” 

The isotope-5 prototype. 

“Heads up,” Hrafnhar said. “That droid’s on this level.” 

“How do you know?” asked Occlus. 

Hrafnhar shrugged in response. “Women’s intuition and, more importantly, I sliced their computers back in the security office.” 

She was going to buy Mako a cake when this was over. Did Mako like cake? Didn’t matter, Mako was getting a cake. 

They hurried down the corridor, eliminating resistance where they found it but not making a real sweep for hostiles. When they came to a stop in front of a massive durasteel door. Occlus produced his comm and Niar and the nemoridian doctor manifested holographically in his hand. 

“Tell me about the isotope-5 prototype,” Occlus said. “Because I think I’m right on top of it.” 

<< Conventional weaponry could theoretically penetrate the droid’s shields, >> said the nemoridian doctor. << In practice, the firepower required would equal… seven-point-eight. >>

“Seven-point-eight what?” Niar asked before anyone else could open their mouths to do the same. 

<< Molecular disruption units, as defined by the Skakoan weaponeers. >>

“Well that’s just fucking great,” Hrafnhar snapped. “Let me run some quick fucking conversions, you squishy excuse for a Huttfucker.” 

“Hrafnhar,” Occlus protested. There was a pause and then he dropped his shoulders. “She’s right though.” 

The doctor didn’t seem particularly put out. << Apologies for the nonstandard measure. It may be possible to compliment your personal weaponry with Stronghold One’s automated defenses. You would need to survive long enough to reprogram the facility’s guns. >>

Hrafnhar rolled her neck around. “I can do that if everyone else can cover me.” 

“We can cover you, Riddur,” Torian promised. 

She smiled at him, trying to keep the softness from the corners of her red eyes for fear that Occlus would see it. She took strength in the knowledge that any injury or horror visited on Torian would strength, rather than diminish, her resolve. 

But sometimes she thought about the strained grunting noises Torian had made in Tormen’s grip and she would do whatever was necessary to keep from putting him in that situation again.

But he had her back and he’d buy her the time she needed to get Mako to hack the weaponry. She had faith in nothing the way she had faith in Torian when he gave her that ‘we can do it’ look. 

The door opened and in the center of the darkened room something moved. A droid with a rectangular body and four bowed-out legs. It’s head pivoted on the top of a long, upright neck, servos whirring as it took stock of the four figures in the entry way. Hrafnhar pulled her eyes off the droid and looked for a console. 

“Cover me,” she said out of the corner of her mouth. She darted into the room, skidding behind a pillar as the droid fired at her. No sooner had the laser screamed through the air than she heard a dualsaber ignite and two rifles fire. She counted to three and darted for another pillar, heading towards a console. When nothing fired at her, she sprinted the last few metres to the console. 

“Mako,” she said lowly. “Can you hack the weapons systems?” 

“I think so… yes.” Mako said. There was a moment of silence and then a pleased, “There!” in Hrafnhar’s ear. 

Hrafnhar looked over her shoulder as the turrets came online and started firing at the droid. 

“Hrafnhar, it looks like I can dump a bunch of lava on it, but you’ll need to hook me into another console. Upper level, other side of the room.”

“Alright,” Hrafnhar responded and then she turned around and shouted: “Get out of melee range!” 

She didn’t wait to see if Occlus and Torian had obeyed her, instead she sprinted up the ramp and over to the console she needed to hit. She sliced in so Mako could get a foothold. A moment later, lava rained through the roof to shower the droid. Occlus shouted an obscenity and Hrafnhar grinned as the droid stopped functioning. 

She headed down the ramp and smiled at her companions. “How many more of those things do you think the Hutts have, anyway?” 

“Hopefully none,” answered Occlus. “Good idea with the lava, by the way. Fucking _terrifying_ , but effective.” 

“I’m a master of my environment,” Hrafnhar lied. 

Occlus nodded and lead the way to the back of the room and down the lift to the vault. When they arrived, the room was dark and they split off to find the isotope, looking through the couple of crates until Occlus said “fuck” and Hrafnhar turned around to see what was wrong. 

“Yeah?” she asked. 

“Has anyone else found anything?” Occlus asked. 

There was a chorus of no’s. 

“Fuck,” he said again, his shoulders sagging. “Well, I’ve found _a_ sample.” 

“Your tone doesn’t exactly fill me with fucking confidence.” 

“There should be more here.” Occlus lifted a hand to his ear and his comm device to contact the support team on the gravity hook. “Hey,” he said. “I’ve found storage tanks, but they’re mostly empty. There’s only one sample left.” 

He nodded as support responded. 

“Could they have moved it?” 

They headed further into the vault, looking for more of the isotope and Hrafnhar’s neck hair stood on end when a door dropped away and revealed more than two dozen of the droid they’d fought in the other room. Smaller droids, but still… probably not good. 

“Well shit,” Occlus said in a small voice. “They built a Huttfucking army.” 

“Congratulations on your new droid army?” Hrafnhar hedged. “Because you’re not getting the isotope out of those things in a timely manner.” If at all. 

“Marr will _not_ approve of the droid army.” Occlus dragged a hand down his face. “He had _plans_ for the isotope.” 

“Why is it every time you hire me I find out there’s another Darth behind the scenes?” Hrafnhar said flatly. 

Occlus groaned. “Because I’m cursed.” 

A droid on the left moved. Hrafnhar pointed her blaster at it. Then the one in the front of the room stood up and a holo of a hutt flickered into place.

Great.

“Please. Stay,” the hutt said in basic. 

Hrafnhar had never heard a hutt speak basic before. 

“I am Szajin,” the hutt said. “First Archon of the New Hutt Empire and shadow chief of the conquest-world Makeb. I’d been wondering about the Empire’s presence here for some time—but of course, you wanted the isotope.”

Hrafnhar kept her eyes on the other droids, both blasters out, confident that Torian and Gault were watching the droids she couldn’t see. 

“Pleased to meet you,” Occlus said dryly. 

“The only isotope-5 left on Makeb is locked in the planet’s core—and when that explodes, there won’t be any left at all,” said the Archon. “Our army of droids is being assembled at facilities across the planet. Your Empire has nothing—rumor is, even your Emperor is missing.” 

Hrafnhar took her eyes on the droids momentarily to gauge Occlus’s reaction, but if he was shocked he hid it well. 

“Thanks for the information,” he said. He looked to Hrafnhar. “Time to go.” 

<< Program “Evisceration” = Online >> rumbled the droid sending the holo as the Archon flickered away. 

Droids took all the romance out of mass slaughter. 

Occlus darted towards it and lashed at its legs with his dualsaber. Hrafnhar turned and fired, aiming for the ocular ports on the droid’s head while Gault aimed for center mass and Torin raced into clobber it alongside their resident darth. 

The droid went down and Hrafnhar kept her blasters up because there were a _lot_ of these droids and she didn’t trust that it was going to be as easy as taking one out. 

Occlus spun around. “We have to get back to Lord Cytharat’s team. _Now_.”

The other droids started to move. 

Hrafnhar nodded and when Occlus dashed from the room she followed at a run, Gault and Torian chasing after them.

Occlus had one hand on his ear. “How severely are you outmatched?” 

He nodded and then a minute later snapped. “We’re not just _leaving_ him. We’re all getting out together. Rendezvous at the security station.” He lowered his hand and dashed forward, Hrafnhar and her team straining to try and keep up. 

When they hit the lift, Occlus seemed to breathe again. They headed back up to the security station and Occlus ignited his dualsaber before charging the mercenaries at the door of the security station. Hrafnhar paused a way back and fired, smiling faintly when Gault skidded to a stop beside her and Torian rushed ahead. 

There were about thirty mercenaries in total, but they were paying attention to Cytharat’s team and hadn’t anticipated being flanked. 

Despite this, everyone sustained some minor injury, Hrafnhar’s being a graze along her side from where one of the mercenaries had just missed. When the dust settled Occlus rushed over to Cytharat, who looked injured, and Hrafnhar, Torian and Gault crowded together. 

<< Is it bad, cyare? >> Torian asked, gesturing to her injury with his chin.

She shook her head. << Could use a hand with the medpac just ‘cause I can’t see it. >>

Torian took a medpac from her pack and lifted her shirt around her breastplate and applied it to her skin. The kolto was cool and stung slightly. She bit down on her lip to keep from pressing her mouth to Torian’s once he’d finished. 

“K’atini.” 

“I know, I know,” she smiled at him.

“You alright, Princess?” Gault asked. 

“Yeah,” she replied, taking a step away from Torian. “Just a graze, where’s Occlus.” 

“Over there with his tongue down Cytharat’s throat,” Gault gestured towards where Occlus was pressed against the injured, other sith lord. 

Hrafnhar rolled her eyes. “Now hardly seems the time.” 

“Hypocrite,” Gault said good naturedly. 

Hrafnhar laughed. “That’s fair.”

Occlus turned around. “We’re evacuating. Everyone gets back to the gravity hook and nobody gets left behind.” 

* * *

A meal was waiting when they returned to the gravity hook. It was pretty much just protein bars and caf, but Hrafnhar’d had worse and at least someone else was supplying the protein bars. Occlus stayed with Cytharat until the shuttle taking him and the other injured troopers to Dromund Kaas departed. Then, Hrafnhar followed Occlus to discuss the situation with Katha Niar. 

Niar had a holocall going with Darth Marr when Occlus and Hrafnhar walked in. 

“The Hutts are aware of your presence and the isotope-5 is gone,” Marr angrily summarized the events. 

“Yes, my lord.” Niar said, sounding reasonably distressed. “We have a sample, and there’s more in the core, but… I failed.” 

Hrafnhar kept her mouth shut because she liked breathing oxygen, but it seemed to her that the Hutts would have had to start construction on their precious droids sometime _before_ the Empire had landed forces on Makeb. She didn’t _like_ Niar, but this wasn’t her _fault_. 

Sometimes jobs went south because you didn’t have all the information. 

Marr, however, didn’t seem to see it that way. Hrafnhar didn’t need to see behind the mask to know he was _pissed_. “Today, three planets fell to Republic butchers,” Marr gritted out. “I sacrificed those worlds and the legions defending them in order to buy time for _this_ _operation_ to succeed.” Marr paused, and then raised a hand to point menacingly at… either Occlus or Niar— Hrafnhar couldn’t tell which because they were standing next to each other and holo-technology was imperfect. The important part was he wasn’t pointing at her. “ _You_ are responsible for what happens on Makeb.”

Occlus’s shoulders tensed and his back straightened. “It’s quite obvious that the Hutts began building the Isotope-5 droids long before we arrived. This team has done admirably with what little intel they’ve been provided. Rest assured, our best will _not_ disappoint.”

It was impossible to tell if Marr was mollified by that. The spikes tickling his sithy prostate seemed to be a permanent fixture.

But, instead of berating Occlus or Niar, Marr started in on a standard inspiring speech about making the Empire better blah blah blah, which Hrafnhar mostly tuned out on reflex.

“Fail to secure the Isotope-5,” Marr said, finally getting to the fucking point, “and the Empire dies forever. Solve this.”

A strange expression flickered over Occlus’s face— a sharp, furious defiance that he visibly bit back. Instead, he simply nodded as Marr’s transmission ended.

“Well he’s a bundle of sun and rainbows,” Hrafnhar said. “Got any plans on how we’re going to ‘solve this’, Oh fearless leader?” 

Occlus looked at his team. “Options?” 

<< We have been analyzing options, >> said the nemordian scientist. << And our conclusion is unfortunate: We cannot extract the isotope-5 from the droids. >>

Niar nodded. “And we can’t mine the isotope ourselves before the planet explodes. Even if the Hutts cooperated, we’d never get enough.” 

Occlus frowned thoughtfully and reached a hand up to toy with the braid on the side of his head. “So what we really need is _time_. We have to save Makeb.”

Hrafnhar snorted a laugh. “That’s a hard fucking sell.” 

“I’m afraid I must agree,” said Niar. “I don’t know if that’s possible.” 

Occlus looked to the scientist, who pursed his lips and then said, << Saving a planet would require significant… innovation. I can make no promises. >>

“There is no higher priority,” Occlus said. “Contact the science bureau and bring in the help you need.” He turned to Niar. “I want you to search Solida Hesk’s databanks. Her mining company must have studied the planet’s geology.” He turned to Hrafnhar as Niar stiffened into a salute. “Hrafnhar, I want your team on security until we have a plan.” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “Sure, why not. I’m as curious as anyone if you can pull this little miracle off.” She turned to Gault and Torian. “We take this in shifts because there’s only one front door. You boys go rest up, Gault, you and I’ll trade in three hours.” 

<< Gets lonely without you. >> Torian said. 

<< I’m sure you can think of _something_ to do to pass the time. >>

* * *

“I’ve been so _bored_ stuck here with just Blizz,” Mako complained as Hrafnhar took her turn to rest. “The most excitement I’ve gotten was running tech for you in that Stronghold thingy.” 

Hrafnhar gave her an apologetic smile. “You saved our tits, Mako. Good thinking with that lava thing.” 

“How long are you back for?” 

“Torian goes on duty in three hours, so I was thinking of grabbing a nap with my husband. Wanna come? Could be more exciting than a nap.” 

Mako, predictably, wrinkled her nose. “Ew.” 

“Bet if it was just Torian you’d be into it.” 

“Maybe if he was single and had better taste in women.” 

“I assure you I taste just fine.” Hrafnhar winked. 

Mako laughed and rolled her eyes, turning back to the console she was working on. Hrafnhar headed down to the cargo bay and dropped her arms around Torian’s shoulders where he was sitting on one of the crates. She pressed her nose to his neck and groaned. “I have wanted to kiss you like four _thousand times_ today.” 

“There’s no Sith lord here,” Torian said, turning his head and catching her mouth with his mouth. Hrafnhar kissed him fiercely, opening her mouth for his tongue like nothing in this world could ever taste so sweet. 

“We’ve got time before you have to go watch the door,” she muttered. 

Torian smiled and stood up, scooping her into the air. “Read my mind.” 

They were in the doorway when her comm lit up and she answered it audio only. “Yeah?” 

“Hello sweetcheeks,” Gault said in her ear. “Darth Occlus wants you back. We’re moving on something.” 

Hrafnhar groaned. “Thanks Gault, there in a minute.” She hung up and looked up at Torian. “Kiss me one more time, like you mean it, and then let’s go placate a dark councilor.” 

“We’ll have time later,” Torian promised, setting her down and pinning her against the doorframe for one last, deep kiss. 

Hrafnhar smacked her lips happily as the kiss broke. “I love you.” 

“Love you too.” 

They left the ship and returned to the command center. Hrafnhar put a hand on her hip and waited for Occlus to finish what he was doing. 

“Gault said you needed me?” 

Occlus turned around and nodded. He offered a tiny attempt at a reassuring smile. “We’re going to travel to Makeb’s core and trigger the isotope-5 to map all deposits so we can stabilize the core,” Occlus said. 

Hrafnhar raised an eyebrow. “Sounds safe. You need all three of us?” 

“I shouldn’t,” Occlus said. “The mine shaft _should_ be abandoned. Because, you know, planetary core and also groundquakes.” 

“Gault,” Hrafnhar said. “You stay here. Take a load off.” 

“Try not to get crushed, princess.” Gault said, looking pleased about not having to tag along to the planet’s core. 

Occlus looked like he was about to say something and then thought better of it. He scooped up a backpack. “Let’s hurry.” 

Hrafnhar waved goodbye to Gault and then followed Torian and Occlus back to the lift. 


	23. Getting Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar accompanies Darth Occlus to an abandoned mining platform and almost, _almost_ admits that she likes him.

The mining platform had been taken over by Makeb’s wildlife, but in Hrafnhar’s opinion this was the opposite of a problem. She hung back, taking potshots at the pterathki that had claimed the platform while Torian and Occlus handled the exoboars on the ground. Occlus focused on getting the machinery back online while Hrafnhar and Torian kept their eyes open for anything that might try and stop him. 

Apparently there was an _infestation_ of some kind deeper in. 

Very exciting. 

They turned on all the generators and then headed down to the lift that would take them to the mine shaft. 

“So…” Occlus said as they descended. “Why leave Gault behind?” 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “I love him, but Gault’s happier when he _doesn’t_ have to fight. He’s one of those ‘brain over brawn’ types.” 

“He’s a coward,” Torian said flatly. 

Hrafnhar shook her head. “He is _not_. He’s just…” She poked around for a nicer way to put it and, unfortunately, her brain wasn’t particularly skilled at _benevolent_ euphemisms and Torian walked away the victor of this particular verbal skirmish. “Play nice,” she huffed, and accepted that it meant she’d been defeated. 

Occlus chuckled—which she did _not_ appreciate—and the lift hit the bottom, depositing them a short jaunt from the mine shaft with only a few yara in the way. 

A couple of predators weren’t really an effective deterrent and the trio made their way to the shaft. 

Which… was blocked. 

Hrafnhar folded her arms over her chest, unimpressed in the extreme with Niar’s directions, but Occlus called to report in and they got redirected to some maintenance shafts. 

_These_ , at least, were open. Torian readied his electrostaff and Hrafnhar brought up her blasters. 

To their surprise, there were Regulators down in the mine shaft. Which was irritating, because why the fuck were the Regulators in an _abandoned_ mine shaft? Never one to waste time stewing when a problem could be solved with violence, Hrafnhar nailed one in the back of the head, buying the split second Occlus needed to dart up and jam his dualsaber through the other one’s chest. 

“There’s more than Regulators down here,” Torian said in a low voice. “I can see tracks.” 

Hrafnhar couldn’t see any tracks, but she trusted Torian that they were there. Torian could track a large predator over hard rock. They caught up to where Occlus was glaring at the corpses. 

“Well they shouldn’t fucking be here,” Occlus said. 

“Probably.” Hrafnhar shrugged. 

“We’re probably being watched. And this could be a trap.” 

Hrafnhar snorted. “Trap Schmap. They don’t know what they’re getting into in that case.” She gestured deeper down the pathway. “But sitting here glaring at corpses won’t make us anything but old.” 

Occlus nodded and the trio continued deeper in, waiting for whatever had made the tracks Torian had noticed. 

The tracks were made by subteroths, spikey subterranean bipeds, and they dispatched the ones they saw as quickly and quietly as they could to keep from drawing a whole herd. 

“There’s something _bigger_ ,” Torian said. 

Occlus gave him a quizzical look. 

“Torian’s the best tracker I’ve ever met,” Hrafnhar defended. “If he says there’s something bigger, there’s something bigger.” 

A little further and the mine shaft opened up and Torian looked up and down at the great expanse made by the tunneling equipment. “Corridan’s never gonna believe this,” he said.

Hrafnhar chuckled. 

“Who’s Corridan?” Occlus asked. 

Hrafnahr grinned. “His boyfriend.” 

Torian rolled his eyes, but Occlus smiled a little bit as they headed deeper in to find the control console he needed for the experiment that would somehow save Makeb. 

Hrafnhar didn’t understand, and she didn’t need to. She just needed to keep Occlus alive long enough that he could do his job so that they could all get out alive—and more importantly, so that Hrafnhar could get paid.

Once they found the console, Occlus made himself busy contacting the support team while Torian and Hrafnhar set up the equipment and then kept the subteroths off of it, joined shortly by Occlus.

After a couple of subteroths went down, Torian started counting in Mando’a, and Hrafnhar felt challenged to prove that she could put down more beasts than her beloved. 

Occlus frowned at them. “Are you two… keeping score?” 

“It’s that or nursery rhymes,” Hrafnhar said dryly. “Gotta do something to pass the time.” 

Occlus considered. “Then count in Basic. I want to know when I’ve won.” 

“Oh it is fucking _on_ ,” Hrafnhar laughed. 

Torian chuckled. “Good man. I’m at seven, she’s at nine.” 

Occlus took down two with one quick twist. “I’m at ten.” 

Final scores were: Torian at 14, Hrafnhar at 16, and Occlus winning at 20. Hrafnhar was too busy being pleasantly surprised that he was playing along at all to really be salty about the loss. She leaned against Torian briefly as Occlus went back to the mining console.

She wanted nothing more than to kiss him, or lean more heavily against him. But she couldn’t in front of the sith lord and Torian understood that. 

They were fine. 

“Shield your eyes,” Occlus shouted. 

Hrafnhar closed her eyes and felt a great wind knock her braid around. She opened her eyes when the ground moved beneath her feet. “Uh, Occlus?” 

“Minor ground quake incoming,” he said, sounding a little bit panicked. “We should go. Now.”

“Nah, I thought getting sealed in was a _great_ idea.” She was already starting to jog.

“There’s a shelter near the entrance,” Occlus said, starting to hurry past her. “Come on!” 

Torian and Hrafnhar chased after him, feeling the cavern as it became less and less stable. 

<< Shit _,_ >> Torian swore, skidding to a stop a few steps ahead of Hrafnhar, who almost crashed into Occlus. 

Facing Occlus down was a whole squad of Regulators. 

Hrafnhar held her blasters up. “Oh shove your cocks up your asses.” 

“Don’t move,” snapped the woman at the front of the squad, a scarred up zabrak. “Funny thing is? I thought the Archon was being paranoid. Who keeps tabs on an old drill site?” 

“Get stuffed,” Hrafnhar said. She aimed and fired in a flash, blowing a hole in the woman’s head. 

“Hrafnhar!” Occlus protested but darted forward, thrusting his dualsaber into a man’s chest before turning and shocking three others. 

“We don’t have time!” Hrafnhar argued. 

The squad didn’t last long, luckily, and Torian, Occlus and Hrafnhar rushed towards the shelter, getting in just in time as the groundquake hit and buried them. 

“Well,” Hrafnhar said, groping for Torian in the dark and finding his familiar calloused hand. This was a setback but it hadn’t yet settled in that they were actually going to die. “We’re not crushed which is nice. We’re going to suffocate, but I’m sure you did your best, Occlus.” 

“Kat,” Occlus said. “Do either of you have a light?” 

“I do,” Torian said while Hrafnhar’s brain tried to wrap around what Occlus had said. 

“What do you mean _Kat_?” She asked, pulling her hand away from Torian’s as he produced a light stick from his pack and cracked it. A sickly green light flooded the shelter. 

“It’s my name, Kat,” Occlus said. “It’s… look, when we’re not dealing with other people, you should call me Kat.” 

“What, like _here kitty kitty_ or—” 

“With a K. Short for _Katsulas_.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. “Uh. Okay.” She didn’t think Sith _gave_ their names to people. Maybe close friends, but certainly not hired guns. 

Unless… wait… did he think they were close friends? 

They _weren’t_ , but she was strangely opposed to disillusioning him, and not because she was scared. It just seemed like an illusion he should be allowed to keep. Maybe it was lonely being one of the twelve untouchable rulers of the Empire. 

That _sounded_ lonely, actually. 

“Pleased to meet you,” Torian said. 

In the sickly green light the smile on [s]Occlus’s[/s]— _Kat’s_ —face was ghastly and exaggerated, but it was still the most genuine smile she’d seen him wear. 

“Please to meet you,” he replied.

It was… cute. 

And Hrafnhar didn’t know how to handle cute when it wasn’t immediately mockable, so she cleared her throat. “That’s great and all, but we’re still gonna run out of air.” 

“No we’re not,” Kat said firmly. He cracked his knuckles. “This might take a while.” He brought both of his hands up to his chest and pushed out towards the rock. The stone groaned. 

Hrafnhar stared. 

This was ridiculous. 

No Sith was moving the mountain they were stuck under. 

* * *

Six hours passed with Kat clearing stone with his dualsaber and the Force while Torian and Hrafnhar followed behind him, through the human sized holes, steadily climbing upwards as they went. It was a slow race against time and limited oxygen, but it was better than sitting around in the shelter waiting for death.

Finally, Kat teetered backwards and Hrafnhar caught his shoulders. He needed a break or he was _going_ to break. She licked her lips and tried to summon something encouraging to say and came up with… 

Fuck all. 

Kat took a deep breath and stood on his own two legs. He shoved his arms forward with a grunt, and the rock shifted and then fell away. Light blinded Hrafnhar and she blinked it away as Torian lightly touched her shoulder. 

Kat had done the impossible and gotten them free of a fucking _mountain_ with sheer force of will. Which, as far as Hrafnhar knew, _should not have been possible_. Even with the Force. 

She wasn’t about to complain however. 

“Vor’e,” she told Kat, looking past him to where Niar had come down from her tower with a crew to dig them out. 

“Huh?” 

“Means thank you, more or less. You did good.” She left Kat with Niar and flopped over on the blue-green grass to better focus on the sunlight on her skin. Six hours was too long to be trapped underground. 

<< I like him, >> Torian said, sitting down near her head. 

<< He’s growing on me, >> Hrafnhar complained. << Like Bothan Nether Rot. >>

“We’re moving out,” Kat announced. 

Hrafnhar sighed and rolled to her feet, offering Torian a hand up. Together they followed the rest of the digging crew, Niar, and Kat up to the mining platform, presumably to discuss whatever came next in this mad “let’s save the planet” scheme. 

They had to take a speeder up, but Hrafnhar was pleasantly surprised to find that things at the mining platform were already running. The Empire apparently knew a thing or two of operating out of somebody else’s shit. Like the parasites they were. 

She and Torian followed Kat over to where Niar and the nemordian were waiting. 

“Attention everyone,” said Niar. “Briefing begins _now_.” 

Hrafnhar found something to lean against. 

<< My lord, >> said the nemordian. << I am pleased to state that your experiment proved fruitful. Research continues, but we believe we can stabilize Makeb’s core by using the planet’s mining lasers to reshape the isotope-5 deposits. >>

Kat nodded. “Alright. What’s our next step then?” 

<< We continue to finalize details. However, we will require a crew capable of controlling multiple mining platforms. >>

“Problem is,” Niar said, taking over. “Our team can barely operate these wretched things. We need experts—engineers and supervisors who can run the mining lasers under our command.” 

“So we need locals,” said Kat. 

“That’s the trouble,” said Niar. “Watch.” 

She turned on a holo of the Archon. And they all listened as Archon Szajin ordered his troops to abduct every engineer above a level seven. Hrafnhar wasn’t sure what the levels _meant_ but she could guess that that boiled down to “basically everyone.” 

“He’s wrong about our goal,” said Niar. “But it doesn’t matter. The Archon’s got black-ops mercs kidnapping the people we need.” 

“So?” asked Hrafnhar. “Let’s just kidnap them back.”

“Phobium Squad is an off-the-books team of Regulator mercenaries: assassins the Hutts bought out with cybernetics. They’re holding the workers in groundquake shelters. A few engineering chiefs who escaped joined a Republic refugee caravan. Won’t be long before Phobium Squad catches them, too.” 

“So, we pick them up and raid the groundquake shelters. There are enough of us to hit both targets at once.” 

“One more thing,” Niar straightened. “We’re still decrypting the order, but it looks like the Archon sent an isotope-5 droid to help secure the caravan. Just to make things difficult.” She saluted Kat. “I’ll stay in touch from here. Anything you need, let us know.” 

Hrafnhar, Kat, and Torian headed outside and Hrafnhar turned around with her hands on her hips. “Do you want to hit the groundquake shelters or the caravan?” she paused a beat and then tacked on a “my lord” for anyone else listening. “Torian will go with you.” 

Kat looked Torian up and down and then cleared his throat. “I think the two of us are better equipped to deal with another droid, who’s going with you to hit the groundquake shelters?” 

“Gault,” Hrafnhar said easily. “I’ll call him and have him meet me there.” 

Torian frowned but nodded and left with Kat for the speeders that would take them to intercept the Republic caravan. Hrafnhar saw them off and then called Gault. “Hey pumpkin.” 

“What’d you need?” he asked pleasantly. 

“We’re kidnapping engineers. Meet me at these coordinates.” She sent the coordinates for the first groundquake shelter. “I’ll wait for you before kicking the door down.” 

“Be there soon, cupcake.” 

Hrafnhar shut off her comm and headed for the rendezvous point. 

* * *

“What’s up?” asked Gault when he arrived at the rendezvous point. He looked around. “Where’re Torian and Occlus?” 

“Kidnapping _different_ engineers.” 

“I’m surprised you’re leaving Torian alone with him.” Gault said. 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “If I cling to him, Kat’ll know how important he is. Better to play it safe.” 

“Wait,” Gault’s smile grew and a twinkle appeared in his eye. “ _Kat_?” 

“Keep it to yourself,” Hrafnhar said “It’s information that’s pretty much only dangerous to us if we misuse it.” 

Gault frowned but nodded his agreement and the pair of them headed for the groundquake shelters. 

The city they were moving through was a mess; the groundquakes had sunken parts of it and forced other parts higher into the air. They moved quickly, hoping to dodge any Regulator patrols that were still in the area but keeping their weapons handy in case they couldn’t. 

More than Regulators, the cracked mesa was dotted with exoboars that caught their scent and had to be put down quickly and as quietly as possible. 

Phobium squad was _also_ struggling with the wildlife. Hrafnhar and Gault lobbed grenades into the encampment where the mercenaries were fighting against an underwalker stirred up by the groundquakes. When everyone was dead, Hrafnhar and Gault moved to the next encampment and repeated the process, determined to have a clear line of escape with the scientists. 

They reached the first shelter and Hrafnhar touched her ear-comm. “Mako? I need you to slice me through this door.” 

“Just a second,” Mako said. “Annnnd, there.” 

The door whooshed open. Hrafnhar brandished her blasters, Gault pointed his rifle, the barrel just past her eyes. They watched as a Regulator put a gun to the head of one of the engineers. 

“Please,” the man on his knees pleaded. “We did everything you asked.” 

“Not your fault. New orders say you die.” 

Gault fired and the Regulator hit the floor. Hrafnhar tucked her blasters back into their holsters and strolled over to uncuff the terrified scientists. 

“Get your asses to the nearest mining platform if you want to live,” she said. 

The engineers stared at her and then took off at a run. 

“Were you threatening those terrified scientists?” Gault asked, 

She shrugged. “It got them to move.” 

They hit the next two shelters quickly, fighting through the members of Phobium squad as they did. The scientists were probably as scared of Hrafnhar as they’d been of the Regulators, but she didn’t much mind. She was scary. It was part of the job. 

Idly, she wondered how Torian and Kat were doing. Probably fine. She mostly trusted that Kat wasn’t going to suddenly pull a face-heel-turn and choke the shit out of the man she loved. 

Mostly. 

The worry lingered. 

“We’re done here,” she said calling Niar. “What’s the status on the other team?” 

“They’ve engaged the Isotope-5 droid, I expect to hear from them shortly.” 

“Where are we headed next?” Hrafnhar said, well aware that she couldn’t voice and concerns about Torian and Kat handling even a lesser Isotope-5 droid on their own. They were capable. She shouldn’t worry. She was _bad_ at worrying. 

And yet, here she was. 

“Return to the mining platform,” said Niar.

Hrafnhar took her hand away from her ear, turning the comm off so the Imps couldn’t spy on her conversation. “They’re dealing with another one of those droids.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, bubble-butt.” Gault said, not particularly _convincingly_ , but he still said it and that was what counted.

#

Torian and Kat returned to the mining platform while Hrafnhar was sitting on a pile of crates snacking on a protein bar. She smiled at them and they smiled back. Her eyes strayed over the new blast marks on Torian’s armor, but he didn’t appear injured. 

<< I owe you like ten kisses when this banthashit is over, >> she said. 

<< Missed you too. >>

She looked at Kat. “So, how was stomping the big fucking droid? Wet yourself at all?” 

Kat snorted and rolled his eyes. “It went _fine,_ thanks for asking.” 

Still no Force choke, or punting her off the ledge. 

Kat was a _weird_ Sith lord. 

She followed him into the platform’s operational hub, Torian and Gault remaining outside. Niar looked up at Occlus (well, _down_ at Occlus. He was like five feet tall. Bitty Sith) and nodded to him. “Are we all here?” she asked, turning to the nemordian scientist and the small flock of holo-scientists that had been working the problem of Makeb’s imminent exploding. “My lord, we’ll start the briefing on your command.” 

Kat nodded. 

Hrafnhar leaned back against the railing and tilted her face to the ceiling, letting the techno-babble wash over her until she heard the resident scientist say << it is now too late to reverse the destabilization process. Our only option is to accelerate it. >>

Hrafnhar tilted her face back to the assembled scientists. “I’m sorry, fucking _what_?” 

Kat raised his eyebrows. “What she said.” He pointed at Hrafnhar. 

<< By forcing Makeb through the end stages of destabilization in a compressed time frame, the damage will be contained. >>

“There won’t be time for the mantle to fully crack before the core settles into a new state of equilibrium,” explained one of the holo-scientists. 

Another holo-scientist nodded. “The accelerations won’t be easy on the planet. The groundquakes will be worse than ever, and the aftershocks will continue for months. The mesas will disintegrate, the cities will burn, and the gases released will likely poison the atmosphere. But it’s that or total annihilation.” 

Worked for Hrafnhar. Gault would probably be pissed about the resort, but there were other resorts throughout the galaxy. They’d just go somewhere else. 

“What about the _people_?” Kat asked. 

Hrafnhar gave him a puzzled look. What _about_ the people? 

“They’ll have a memorial,” Niar said, shrugging a little. “That’s more than the Hutts offered.” 

Kat opened his mouth like this was not satisfactory and then closed it again when he realized that literally no one cared. 

<< May I? >> asked the scientist. << As we discussed earlier, the mining lasers are the key to manipulating the core. Our new engineers will operate the platforms. >>

“The timing’s perfect, >> said Niar. << The whole population is fleeing the planet, so that’ll get rid of the Hutts while we work. But the Archon still thinks we’re trying to mine the isotope.” She frowned. “He’s sent his forces to blockade the drill platforms. _All_ his forces.” 

“Eggs,” Hrafnhar said, holding up one hand. “Baskets.” She held up the other hand. “I’ve never met a _smart Hutt_ and i’m still pretty sure they don’t exist.” 

“Why isn’t he just leaving?” Kat asked, ignoring Hrafnhar (which was fair). “Does he know what we’re doing?”

“I can’t speak for the Archon,” said Niar. “But he’s offered his men a bonus and promised to keep shuttles waiting. You’ll want to scatter the Archon’s armies around three drill sites so our engineering teams can move in. We’ve spotted isotope-5 droids advancing on the nearest platform—programed to target your personally, according to intercepts. I’d take it as a compliment.” 

“Ah, _popularity_ ,” Kat said, shaking his head. “What’s happening with the other two drills?” 

“There are massive life readings around the second and third, but no hard data. I’ll update you when I know more.” 

Kat sighed and then nodded. “Prepare to move out.” 

“Lord Cytharat would have had tactical advice, but all I can say is, kill the rotters.” 

Hrafnhar rolled her shoulders back. “‘Kill a motherfucker’ is how most of my tactics work out,” she lied. 

Kat chuckled and she kept pace with him as they left the command center. It would take time to mobilize the engineering teams, time enough to work out an _actual_ battle plan. When they were outside she whistled and waved for Torian and Gault to come over to them. 

“Plan?” Torian asked. 

“Kill some motherfuckers,” Hrafnhar said. “Shouldn’t be _much_ more complicated beyond that.” 

“We have three mining platforms we need to free from the Archon’s control,” Kat said. “The first one has isotope-5 droids specifically targeting me, but I don’t know how many there are. The second and third platforms are apparently swarming with the Archon’s forces, but we don’t have _much_ information about them.” 

“See,” Hrafnhar said. “Kill some motherfuckers. The droids are specifically targeting Occlus, meaning someone _other_ than Occlus could get closer.” She gave a sharp grin and took the battle plan out of Kat’s hands. “Torian, how strong was the lesser isotope-5 droid?” 

“Strong, but far from invincible.” 

“Think you and Gault can handle them?” 

Gault frowned at her, but then sighed and nodded his acquiescence

“Yes.” Torian said. 

“Great. You two will take the first platform while Occlus and I take the second. The four of us will converge on the third platform.” 

“Do I get a say in this?” Kat asked. 

“Of course,” Hrafnhar said dryly. “You _are_ the Sith Lord.” 

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to hit each platform with the four of us.” 

She shrugged. “It’d take longer. Gault’s no stranger to grenades and Torian’s no stranger to guerilla tactics. You’re probably our most _efficient_ fighter but with you hitting the first platform there’s no keeping away from the droids because they’re high-key looking for you.” 

“Fair enough. You’ve really thought this through.” 

“The platforms fall under the ‘prey’ category now,” Gault said dryly. “Hrafnhar is very good at hunting prey, but you wouldn’t want her doing your taxes.” 

“Ugh,” she wrinkled her nose. “I swear, taxes are like, half, of why I am not an Imperial citizen.” 

“What’s the other half?” asked Kat. 

“You’ve seen the blue, right?” she raised an eyebrow. “You were barely a person to them and you’re human.” 

She knew slave brands when she saw them, and Kat’s former masters had branded his _face_. 

Kat touched his cheek, fingers smoothing over the bumps. He nodded and then cleared his throat, clearly a little uncomfortable. “We’ve got a little bit of time before the engineering teams will be ready to move out. Take the time to relax.” He turned and left and Hrafnhar almost felt a little bit bad for pointing out that he’d been a slave. 

But he _had_ and it meant that was a level they could sort of see eye to eye on. Hrafnhar had never been a slave, but the Empire had spat on her in much the same way. 

And now he was _Sith_. And not _just_ Sith. He was one of the twelve members of the Dark Council, one of the most powerful men in the galaxy. 

She rolled her head on her neck. “Think there’s real food around or are we reduced to protein bars until we get to go home?” 

“Protein bars,” Gault said. He sniffed a little bit. “It’s uncivilized but it’s the Empire, not much you can do about it.” 

“We’re going _out_ to eat when we get home,” Hrafnhar said. “I can’t believe I’m out of jerky.” 

Torian un snapped one of his pockets and produced a small bag of jerkied meat. “Here.” 

She gave him an adoring smile and took a piece. << You’re perfect, babe. >>

<< Love you too. >>

She chewed the piece of jerky slowly. Torian used the cooker on _The Varactyl’s Nipples_ to make it, preserving the meat from their hunts. Most of the time he made it so it wasn’t too spicy for Mako or Gault, but this batch he’d made to his own tastes so it burned Hrafnhar’s tongue ever so pleasurably, stinging in her nose. 

No one asked if Occlus was going to be alright. Gault didn’t care and Torian felt that vocalizing that sort of thing could be read as disrespectful. 

Hrafnhar wondered about it, but wasn’t the sort of person to put her worry to words. Kat was either going to be okay or he wouldn’t. There wasn’t a whole lot she could do about it. 


	24. Explosion Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hrafnhar finishes up on Makeb by helping Katsulas deal with The Archon. Good times are had by everyone (or well, by most people who are not the Archon)

Kat had recovered by the time they headed out for the second mining platform. “Do you think it was wise leaving the isotope-5 droids to Torian and Gault?” he asked. “Aren’t you worried?” 

“If they needed me to babysit them, they wouldn’t be on my crew,” Hrafnhar said drawing her blasters. “I don’t hand-hold.” 

“That fits with what I’ve figured out about your character,” Kat said with a teasing smile. “It’s a miracle you work with other people at all.” 

“It’s the tits,” Hrafnhar said. “They just draw guys in. I liked Torian and Gault enough to keep them.” 

Kat laughed at that and shook his head. 

“So where’s Andronikos?” Hrafnhar asked. “Leave him behind again?” 

“He’s helping the rest of my crew run some errands,” Kat explained. “There’s a lot of… maintenance… that goes into being a Dark Councillor.” His distaste was palatable, but Hrafnhar decided she didn’t care. Caring about _that_ was a lot like caring about _him_ and she cared about five people. Herself, Torian, Gault, Mako and Blizz. That was enough. More than enough. 

She tilted her head back and missed being a solo act for a moment, but _just_ for a moment.

“That so?” She said. 

Kat nodded. “You have no idea.” 

“Probably best we keep it that way,” Hrafnhar said. “You don’t pay me enough to think about Sith politics.” 

Kat tilted his head and paused for a moment.“ _Could_ I pay you enough to think about Sith politics?” 

Hrafnhar considered saying no, but the truth was she could be paid to think about lots of things. “Probably but it’d be more expensive than hoisting the Exchange off the spice trade. Lots of credits, several dead, a real fucking mess.” 

Kat laughed. “That’s expensive.” 

“Yes. I fucking _hate_ politics.” They reminded her of her mother. They reminded her of Cspalar. 

Kat nodded his agreement and then the small transport landed near the second mining platform. He ignited his dualsaber and Hrafnhar looked at the crowd of armed mercenaries waiting for them around the second mining platform. 

Gault and Torian were fine, she told herself. They’d meet her at the third platform. 

She followed Katsulas forward and launched rockets into the opposing force. It wasn’t enough to just get to the control room; they had to scatter the opposing forces to safely get the engineering teams in place. 

Luckily, Hrafnhar was equipped for large-scale mayhem as a matter of course and she and Kat started to clear the Hutt forces away. 

Kat paused and raised a hand to his ear before lowering it and shouting to Hrafnhar. “They’ve got hovertanks and air support.” 

Hrafnhar, grinning with the adrenaline, laughed. “I brought enough for _everyone_ , don’t worry.” She lowered her blasters and followed him. “Besides, the Regulators probably have ground to air missiles I can ‘borrow’.” 

“We don’t need missiles,” Kat said. “And let’s save your rockets for ground assaults. That worked beautifully. I can handle the air support.” 

Hrafnhar gave him a doubtful look, but shrugged. Maybe he could make the lightning go that far. That’d be a pretty cool trick. 

They were fighting their way onto the platform when Hrafnhar spotted the skyfighters. Kat turned when she whistled and reached up with both hands. 

The skyfighters twitched, hanging frozen in midair. They drew apart and then accelerated, slamming into each other. Debris rained from the sky. Hrafnhar turned to look at Kat. He wiped some sweat from his brow with the back of his index finger. 

“What the fuck?” Hrafnhar said slowly. 

Kat gave her a smile. “I said we didn’t need any missiles.”

Hrafnhar nodded wordlessly, horrified at what she’d just seen. 

The Chiss believed that the Force was a taint and Hrafnhar had tried to shake her upbringing but on this one point she felt they had something. Kat… _Occlus_ … had plucked _skyfighters_ out of the sky and smashed them together like they were toys. 

That wasn’t _right_. 

_No one_ should be able to do that.

“You alright?” 

“Fine,” she lied. “Let’s go claim the control center.” Hrafnhar nodded and fell into step behind him. She focused on the fighting, uncomfortable with everything else. But fighting was easy, fighting she could do. 

They put down the old Regulator commander in short order and Kat called Niar in case she had an update on the situation at the third platform. 

He’d pulled skyfighters out of the air. What _else_ could he do that with?

Was this why some other Dark Councillor wanted him dead?

The ground shook and Hrafnhar grabbed a console. 

<< This is Nadrin, >> said the neimoidian scientist. << That groundquake is the result of the first team’s drilling: expect the tremors to worsen as additional lasers come on line. >>

Hrafnhar produced her comm. “Torian, Gault.” 

“This is Gault.” 

“How’d it go.” 

“Smoothly, Torian’s a bit singed. We’re heading for the third platform now.” Gault sounded a little bit annoyed, probably because people and droids had been shooting at him. 

“Alright,” Hrafnhar said. “Don’t engage the last platform, wait for us.” 

“Roger that.” The line went quiet. 

“Whipids and guard beasts,” Kat told her. “Also heavy cannons.” 

Hrafnhar nodded. “The boys’ll meet us there. We should hurry.” 

Hrafnhar and Kat met up with Torian and Gault near the outskirts of the third mining platform. Moving as a group, they took out the cannon emplacements and then cleared the way to the platform. They worked their way back to the command center. 

“So, you two have fun?” Gault asked. 

“Oh, you know,” she fired back. “Everyday’s a gift when you’re knocking skyfighters out of the air.” 

Gault paused. “How’d you pull that off?” 

She gestured to Kat, charging ahead with Torian, with her chin. 

“That’s not an answer,” Gault said. 

“I’m not any happier about it,” Hrafnhar replied. “But yeah, he’s tougher than he looks.” 

They breached the command center and Kat launched the whiphid in charge backwards into the console while Gault and Hrafnhar fired at the support squad. 

They hung out in the command center while the engineering squad took up their positions. Hrafnhar clambered up onto a box of instruments or munitions or whatever, with Gault and Torian taking up places near at hand. 

They watched as Kat talked to Niar and then paced back over to them to wait while the scientists started trying to save Makeb. 

“Jerky?” Hrafnhar asked, figuring that if nothing else they could kill time watching Kat sputter over a piece of Torian’s mandalorian-spicy jerky. 

“Uh… thanks.” Kat took the offering and stuck it in his mouth. 

Hrafnhar leered. 

Kat’s eyes widened and then his expression softened. “That’s good. Hot. But good.” 

Hrafnhar frowned and leaned back against the wall, refusing to admit that she was impressed with him because he was a tiny horrorterror who didn’t get to be _cool_. 

Gault laughed. 

“What?” Kat asked around the jerky. 

Gault shook his head. 

“She was hoping you’d choke on the heat,” Torian said. “Little surprised you didn’t.” But _Torian_ looked impressed. 

Kat took the meat out of his mouth. “It’s _hot_ , I mean, probably unpleasantly hot for most people. My eyes are burning a little but the flavor profile is… nice.” 

“Thanks.” 

Kat nodded. “You made it?” 

“Yeah.” 

Kat’s cheeks darkened a little. “I didn’t know you could cook. Corridan’s a lucky guy.” 

Hrafnhar and Gault both laughed. “I think _I’m_ the lucky one,” Hrafnhar said, smiling warmly at Torian. “He cooks for me most days, afterall.” 

Gault, predictably, rolled his eyes. “It’d be nice if he’d make food that was _edible._ ” 

Kat’s expression puzzled. 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “We do a lot of frozen meals,” she explained. “And Torian knows _how_ to cook without making things mandalorian-spicy.” 

“Mandalorian-spicy?” Kat asked. 

“It’s a mando thing. The hotter the better. We call it noseburn, it takes a backseat to orgasms but only _just_.” 

<< Liar. >> Torian said. 

Hrafnhar laughed. “Okay, maybe more than a backseat.” 

* * *

The lasers finished and word came down that Makeb was stable. It was a ruined husk of a world, soon the atmosphere would be toxic and the groundquakes would all get worse. Kat let the engineers go and then took a call from Darth Marr. 

Hrafnhar rolled her shoulders back, stretching them out. This job was almost over. She wondered if Marr was trying to kill Kat. She’d stick around until things were over, just to make sure that Marr didn’t try to off Kat when he’d finished being useful. 

Not because she cared. Because Kat was good business.

“So,” she said as the conversation ended. “Drinks back at the mining platform?” 

Kat nodded. “That sounds _nice_.” 

They ride back was uneventful, flying gave relief from the way the mesas were shattering apart. 

“We’ll get the rest of your fee settled up when we’re done here,” Kat said. “Then go home and… sleep.” 

“Real beds sound _nice_ ,” Gault agreed. “So does getting paid.” 

Chaos reigned the mining platform as they landed. Hrafnhar frowned. More _work_. She had been _this close_ to finished. She looked around at the bodies being stacked up outside the entrance and the groaning injured being fussed over by medical droids. Hrafnhar pulled out her blasters. “Gault, Torian, hold the shuttle, we might need it.” And then she followed Kat into the command center to find Niar. 

<< I beg you, >> said Nadrin. << Repair the drill controls first! >>

“Protocol says to get the alarms online,” said the tech arguing with him. 

<< Please. Until the core settles, our humble exertions are the only thing keeping the groundquakes in check. This mesa could collapse if I cannot work. >>

The human sergeant was grabbing his knees, panting for breath. 

“Get the drill controls operational,” Kat said sternly. “Where’s Katha?” 

“Sir!” said the sergeant. “The Archon’s forces attacked. Small merc team with an assault shuttle.” 

<< Mistress Niar told me to hide, >> Nadrin said, hands settling on his hips. << And I did, like a grubling. I heard her kill one of the enemy; then, only noise. >>

Niar had been kidnapped, Hrafnhar pieced together. The only question was could they track the mercenaries down _before_ she broke and told the Hutts that the planet wasn’t on the cusp of destruction.

Also Kat would probably want to rescue her. 

Because _one_ Mako wasn’t enough. 

Stupid goodie goodies. 

She tuned back into the conversation and, yes, Kat wanted to save people, big surprise. 

“The shuttle flew toward the Archon’s estates. I’m down to two fit men and one blaster pack—but if you want to hit back, I can get you field intel.”

Kat nodded. “What are we walking into?” 

“Expect a lot of automation: droids, turrets, particle shields… anything the Archon would hold back or couldn’t use on the battlefield. He knows you’re coming, and he’d got the home-team advantage. So basically, it’s a death trap.” 

“Hooray,” Hrafnhar said dryly. “I’ll go wait by the shuttle.” She headed out back to the shuttle and sighed at Gault and Torian. “Head back to the ship. I’m going with Kat to rescue Niar, apparently.” 

“By yourself?” Gault said skeptically. 

Hrafnhar shrugged. “Just do it.” 

<< Riddur. >>

Hrafnhar smiled at Torian. << Take care of Mako if I don’t come back, Riddur. And I _will_ be coming back. >>

Torian glanced past her and then leaned in and kissed her once, pulling away before anyone could notice. << I love you. Don’t be too late. >>

She watched him and Gault take one of the shuttles back to the gravity hook and leaned against a wall to wait for Kat. With two fingers she touched her lips and then let the hand drop away. 

“Where are Torian and Gault?” asked Kat, coming out of the command center. 

“Heading back to gravity hook 7,” Hrafnhar answered. “Let’s go rescue Niar and whomever else.” 

“Worried about them?” Kat asked. 

Hrafnhar snorted. “No. I just don’t feel like they’re necessary. We can handle the Archon and his banthashit. Most of his forces are off world.” 

Kat nodded. “If you’re sure.” 

“I’m sure the fuck not recalling them.” Hrafnhar said, crossing her arms over her chest. ”Are we doing this or are we going to stand around pulling one another’s dicks?” 

“If there’s one thing I’m not about to trust you with, Hrafnhar, it’s my dick.” 

“Good.” 

They clambered up into the shuttle and headed towards the Archon’s estate, fully armed and operational. 

They landed and approached the estate on foot, moving carefully to keep for tipping any traps or alarm systems. 

Kat pressed a hand to his ear, nodded and then lowered it. “First target is the outer guard station. Sergeant Bedareux will get us more intel from there.” 

Hrafnhar nodded and started forward. They ran the gauntlet of dudes and turrets and Hrafnhar stood guard while Kat got the information they needed. The world shifted beneath her feet but Hrafnhar managed not to fall over. She looked over her shoulder at Kat and the holos of Nadrin and Bedareux flickered away. 

“Plan?” 

“Point the laser turrets at the palace and hope they take down the force fields.” 

“Exciting,” Hrafnhar said dryly.

Kat led the way up higher onto the palace grounds. While he guarded the room, Hrafnhar placed a hand to her ear and whispered, “Mako.” 

“What do you ne—ooh, laser turrets. Where do you need them pointed?” 

“The palace,” Hrafnhar said in a low voice, “And there’ll be more after this.” 

Mako sliced the mainframe with no difficulty and Hrafnhar and Kat hurried to the next turret. And then the next. And at last the force field was down. 

She followed Kat up through the small army of cartel enforcers and into the Hutt palace. There they found more turrets and Hrafnhar was transported back to her jobs for Nem’ro. Hutt palaces were all the same. Different layouts, same garbage. 

Kat managed to pull up a map from somewhere and, with Hrafnhar’s help, they identified the most likely locations for the Archon to be holding Kat’s people. 

Checking the first location, Hrafnhar grabbed Kat’s shoulder and pulled him back when she heard a wet splat, like armor across a face. They peered into the room cautiously and Hrafnhar watched as Kat lifted the Regulator holding the imperial body and threw him roughly into the other Regulator, knocking them both prone where they were easily coup de grace’d by Hrafnhar. 

Kat surged into the room. “Katha!” 

Niar was a mess of bruises and cuts, but she tried to push herself upright. Hrafnhar noted that she was the only body moving. 

“Sir,” she said dully. “I’m sorry. The Archon… he had machines… he put a tube in my head.” She reached up and touched a bloody clump of hair before accepting Kat’s hand to standing. “He knows we saved the planet. Son of a bitch is going to tell the Hutts.” 

“We should probably fucking kill him before that happens,” Hrafnhar said. 

“I failed,” Niar said. “But I’m not stupid, this way.” 

She lead them through the palace and paused outside a pair of large golden doors. Hrafnhar could hear bickering within. She raised her blaster and then the doors exploded inward as Kat thrust the Force forward. “Those were my _people_.” Lightning exploded from his fingertips and the Hutt arched impossibly backwards, unable even to scream. 

The lightning stopped and the Archon started to breathe only for Kat to pick him up and chuck him into the back wall. 

“You haven’t won. You hear me? Your secret is already out.” The Archon panted. “My mercenaries are spread across Makeb. You cannot stop them before they contact my fleet.” 

“Heh,” Niar said, limping into the room. “Yes, he can. All he has to do is kill everyone on the planet.” 

“As someone currently on the fucking planet, I object,” Hrafnhar said, glowering at Niar. “Figure something else out.” 

“We’re not doing that,” Kat agreed flatly. 

“A _true_ Hutt does not bargain,” said the Archon. “I would die for my people’s victory.” 

“Alright,” Kat electrocuted the Hutt until he stopped twitching. “Who’s next.” He looked at the holos. 

“I’ve seen what the Empire can do,” said the human. “You want to bargain for your secret? You bargain with us?” 

“The Empire needs mercenaries,” Kat said, gesturing vaguely to Hrafnhar like she was exhibit A. “We’ll pay you.”

“Understood.” The holos went dark. 

“I can’t feel my hands,” said Niar, she slipped down the pillar she was leaning on. “I’d have liked to see Dromund Kaas again, but… you’ll make sure it was worth it? Makeb, I mean. While the war’s still going on. Make sure we survive.” 

Kat nodded. “It may be possible to save you.” 

Niar shook her head. “It’s alright. We knew it was a suicide mission—don’t think I could’ve borne it otherwise. It’s been an honor serving. Better than labeling boxes the rest of my life…” she slid the rest of the way down the pillar and then toppled sideways. 

Hrafnhar stooped and checked her pulse. “Look, I don’t think there’s time to get her to a medic and if we just leave her here her last couple of minutes are going to suck.” 

“What do you propose we do?” 

“I shoot her in the head. Quick, painless, and she’s already unconscious so there’s no fear.”

Kat gave her a horrified look. “ _No_. We can’t just… we have to _try_ to save her.” 

“Do we?” Hrafnhar asked. 

Kat nodded and knelt down and scooped Niar up, starting to carry her to the shuttle. Niar was tall enough that her arms and legs dangled comically low to the ground. Hrafnhar stuck to Kat’s side, both blasters up in case she needed them. 

They reached the shuttle and Kat checked Niar for breath. 

“She’s dead.” He said in a hollow voice. 

Hrafnhar nodded. Niar was dead when Kat picked her up. She might have been dead from the beginning, Makeb had been a suicide mission. 

Kat settled into a seat and forced himself not to look at the body. 

Hrafnhar gave his shoulder a pat. “You did the best you could.” 

Kat inhaled and then exhaled through his nose. “You should take off as soon as we reach the gravity hook.”

“Yeah, not looking forward to the Darth Party you have to attend.

“There’s actually a member of the Council I could call Darth Party,” Kat said morosely. “Can’t tell you who, obviously.” 

“I also don’t want to know. The more I know about the Dark Council the worse things seem to get.” 

Kat looked down, giving the air of a puppy she’d just punted, and she took a risk and shoved his shoulder. “Except for you. You’re alright.” 

He looked up and smiled at her. 

“Just alright.” 

They landed at the gravity hook and Kat sent the rest of Hrafnhar’s pay to her before she headed up to the orbital lock and boarded her ship. 

“Honeys, I’m home.” 

“Are we finished?” Gault asked. “I’m still in mourning for the Cloudside Resort.” 

“We can go,” Hrafnhar said, reaching out and snagging Mako as she passed. “I’m feeling fancy though, so why don’t we hit the Whitecap Spa on Manaan?” She squeezed Mako to her. “You were _brilliant_ by the way.” 

“Maybe next time you won’t leave me behind?” 

“Wishful thinking Mako. When it comes to the Dark Council, the less they know about my operation the better. Which means the tech squad stays on the ship and bails me out of trouble when trouble comes up.” 

She let go of Mako and headed up to the cockpit to take them as far away from Makeb as possible. 

Torian came up behind her and leaned over her seat. He kissed her temple. << Is there anything to do at this Spa? >>

<< I’m sure I can keep you from getting bored. >> She assured him.

“Incoming newsfeed,” Mako shouted from the dining room. “You’re gonna want to actually watch it.” 

Hrafnhar sighed and flicked on the news. 

The new Supreme Chancellor, a Twi’lek by the name of Saresh, stood in front of a Republic banner with a massive human on her right and the diminutive (or maybe everyone else was just tall) Grand Master Shan on her left. “Fellow Citizens of the Republic,” she announced in a bright, clear voice. “The Hutt crisis is over, and we have proven again that compassion is not a weakness, but our strength.” She nodded to the applause. “Yet that is not why I stand before you. Instead, I can finally confirm what many have suspected for months: the Sith Emperor is dead.” 

Hrafnhar sat a little straighter. 

Grand Master Shan nodded. “A Jedi strike team confronted the Emperor during a recent attack on Dromund Kaas. Now a joint SIS and Jedi committee has concluded that the galaxy’s greatest villain is gone forever.” 

Saresh continued. “This does not change the fight ahead. The Dark Council remains the true political power in the Empire. But it sends a message to the Sith and their followers: We are coming for you.” 

The transmission ended and Hrafnhar looked up at Torian. “What do you make of that?” 

“Makes me wish we were on the front lines,” he admitted. “Mandos need war to make us who we are.” 

“We’ll get our shot, Riddur,” she promised. “I just know it.” 

She looked back out the front window and wondered if Kat knew that his Emperor was dead. She wondered if he _cared_. 

He didn’t seem to like the Empire much, which made sense given the whole ‘former slave thing’. 

Hrafnhar shook her head. Kat’s business was Kat’s business unless he was paying her to care. 

And her fees for caring were _exorbitant_. 

Still, saving a planet had made her almost wistful, and she looked back at where and who she had been when Braden had summoned her to horrible, shitty Hutta. She was stronger, she was tougher, she was happier, she had people she genuinely cared for even if she didn’t like admitting it. 

_Shereshoy_ , she thought. _A lust for life_. 

She definitely had plenty of that now. 


End file.
